


Hebert Heavy Industries

by Caliiro



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different Powers, Codependency, F/F, Friendship, Gen, Mecha
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:54:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 56,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29935086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caliiro/pseuds/Caliiro
Summary: Taylor Hebert knew the rules she'd read on the Toybox forums by heart. Don't shop at the same stores, don't spend money that you can't account for, don't let them place you in a pattern. But the cold that she'd had was kicking her ass, and she just needed to get things done. Part of her had been skeptical, could a single misstep really cost her that much? Little did she know that this single, innocuous action would end up saving her life, and placing her in the path of someone that would have a profound effect on said life. The question was if the effect was a good one or a bad one.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 46





	1. Beta Test Build - 0.1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a port of a story that's currently on Hiatus over on Space Battles, I'm just putting it some place a touch easier to read, and to preserve it in case anything happens. Hopefully when my Muse gets off of Covid induced Quarantine, I'll come back and do more over here.

_March 26th, 2011_  
_Obelisk Plaza Mall, Brockton Bay_

  
Double-checking the listed time on her phone, Taylor gently picked up one of the hard-drives on display, flipping the box over as if she were reading the specifications on the back, all the while doing her best not to act like she could feel the eyes of the cashier burning into her spine. As if she’d just realized how worthless the bit of scrap she’d been holding was, Taylor, set it back down on the shelf. Idly casting her gaze around, Taylor was saved from having to find something else to mime interest in by her phone, releasing a pleasant ding.

Briefly checking the message before making her way over to the counter, Taylor did her best to smile convincingly up at the older man manning it. The fleeting recognition in his eyes reminded Taylor that she’d broken one of the ‘cardinal rules of free-tinkering’ that she’d committed to her memory after finding them on the forums hidden in an out-of-the-way portion of the Toybox website. _‘Spread out your purchasing and part sourcing as much as humanly possible to avoid giving yourself away before you’re ready.’_ Truthfully, had she not been fighting off a cold, Taylor would have gone to a different store to get the parts she needed.

But this morning the Tylenol hadn’t proved to be up to snuff, and when this afternoon she’d crashed into a stumbling block that could only be solved with four processors, Taylor had bent the rules just a bit. And that’s how she found herself here, staring up at the curious eyes of the older man, nervously fidgeting in place.

“Hello,” she tried, pasting as convincing a smile as she could onto her face, while she carefully flipped her phone around to show the older man her order number. “I’m here to pick up an order; my uncle forwarded me this email.” The older man’s moustache twitched slowly up on one side, his expression flattening, but he didn’t comment, merely turning to his computer and punching something in on it. Taylor’s smile fell away as she watched the man work, observing his fingers as they danced over the keys.

“This order was secured with a-” The man blinked, glancing down at her as she proffered a folded bit of paper. She watched the man open the paper, staring at the handwritten string of upper and lower case letters and numbers. She watched the man adjust his glasses, giving her an unimpressed look before setting to work, carefully inputting the password. It took a few moments longer, but eventually, the man crumpled the paper, tossing it into a nearby trashcan and indicating that she should wait, vanishing into the back.

Resting a hip against the counter, Taylor stared in his wake, frowning as she glanced around at the empty shop. Despite the email that she’d received that indicated that her order was ‘ready and waiting’ it still took almost twenty minutes before the man returned, carrying a plastic bag in his hands. Taylor watched his approach, smiling as he set the bag down, tapped something on the keyboard and watched a receipt print.

When the bag was held out after the receipt found its way within, Taylor pushed off the counter with every intention of taking it in hand and making her escape. The wave of disorientation that washed through as she reached out made this difficult, though she did manage to catch herself before she hit the floor.

“Are you alright, miss?” The man’s gruff voice was a shock, piercing through the haze that clouded her mind, and she nodded jerkily, reaching out and carefully taking her ill-gotten gains. She muttered something under her breath about having skipped breakfast, refusing to meet the man’s eyes as she thanked him for his concern and turned to stalk out of the electronics store.

When she’d reached the relative safety of the mall’s corridors, she turned toward the food court. Her earlier comments about having skipped breakfast were true, and she’d also missed dinner the night before. Even now the mere idea of finding something in the food court made her stomach turn, but on the other hand, the idea of passing out in the halls was equally unappetizing.

Fifteen minutes later saw Taylor unenthusiastically eating a corn dog as she wandered the corridors of the mall. With nearly an hour before her bus arrived, Taylor opted to spend the time staring at the various things on the mannequins in the display windows. In truth, even with the few minor bits of cash that she’d managed to scrounge up using her gifts, most of this was entirely outside her budget, never mind how she’d explain her locating it to her dad. And that's before considering the trouble that she had with keeping her other secretly sourced and securely hidden technological purchases outside the house most evenings. She didn’t think that she should try to establish some sort of walk-in-closet near her home secretly.

Still, it was fun to look, the mere act reminding her of better times. Occasions when she’d allowed herself to be dragged out to the mall on Emma’s arm to look at this bit of cloth or that one. She studied a green dress that would have looked atrocious on her, but she could have probably talked Emma into trying it on, probably could have coaxed her into buying it, and getting her parents mad just 'cause it suited her eyes or brought out her-

Furiously, Taylor ripped her thoughts away from that particular train of thought, shaking her head and staring down at the even less appetizing contents of the skewer in her hand. She stared at the food and did her best to ignore the faint roiling in her stomach as she took another bite, chewing softly and swallowing. Hopefully, she wouldn’t throw up until she got home, and once she was off the streets, she could curl back up under her warm blankets with some hot soup and just sleep away this bug.

Several more disgusting bites left her holding a bare stick, and Taylor stalked down the corridor until she found a convenient trash can, tossing her stick in quietly. Checking her phone, Taylor did the math in her head and let out a tired sigh. Thirty-eight minutes to go, and she’d run out of stores to gawk at. Contemplating turning back, rechecking the things that she’d already seen, she heard a voice calling out eagerly from one side, stilling her thoughts. Taylor glanced toward the perky blonde that was tugging on an unenthusiastic brunette’s arm in an endearingly familiar way.

Unable to resist, Taylor slid closer, her lips curling into a smile as the words that the blonde was uttering reached her ears.

“-mes, you could totally pull that off!. I mean, look at it! And it’d be perfect for a double date, Dean’s friend Lance has been asking about you, ever since the last one.” The girl swung around and pointed at a dress in the window display and Taylor shifted to get a view of the dark plum dress that the blonde was indicating. It also gave her a decent view of the mounting horror on the poor freckled girl’s features. Resting her hand against her lips to stifle her amusement, Taylor had to admit that the dress wasn’t… terrible, really, but considering the jeans and sweater that the brunette was wearing, it was… perhaps not her style.

“Which one is Lance again?” The girl’s reply momentarily robbed Taylor of her self control, and she snorted a faint laugh, shifting back to rest against a convenient pillar as she observed the comedy going on before her.

“The one with the uh, arms. The quarterback.” The blonde girl gestured with her arms in a fashion that was clearly meant to indicate… something, though what exactly was beyond Taylor. She continued miming despite her sister’s lack of reaction for several seconds before letting out a sigh and waving a hand. “He’s uh. Tall, with sandy blonde hair, hazel eyes. I think you once called him a shaved astrophysicist.” This evidently meant something to the brunette who rubbed at her face and waved a hand.

“Australopithecus, Vicky. I called him a shaved Australopithecus, it’s like an ape, cause he’s like an ape. He asked me if I wanted to head out to the abandoned drive-in after that date, to ‘stargaze.’” The words came out low and droll, and Taylor caught the joke with an amused chuckle, glancing down at her phone and checking the time again. Instead of glancing up, Taylor navigated over to the transit app, checking to see if her bus was going to be late.

“Amy, he’s nice! And I mean, there’s nothing wrong with spending a little time under the stars with a pretty boy-… Ames?” The blonde girl, Vicky apparently, spoke quickly, her tone shifting with confusion. Taylor glanced up, wondering what was up, starting at a pair of furious brown eyes locked on her own, the tiny brunette rapidly approaching her.

“Who-” Nervously, Taylor shifted forward, pushing off the wall to meet the oncoming storm head-on. Or at least, that had been the plan. Unfortunately, the moment that she’d straightened up, she felt a familiar wave of disorientation crashing into her once more. One of her hands lashed out for the wall, trying and failing to find some sort of purchase.

The angry words continued to come, but Taylor was far too distracted with swallowing back a sudden surge of bile at the back of her throat. She glanced up, darkness creeping at the edges of her vision as she stared at the furious, almost accusatory, brown eyes of the tiny girl. Taylor took a step to the right, attempting to move past the angry girl, doing her best to push through the discomfort.

She managed two unsteady steps before a hand grabbed her arm, jerking her back and finally robbing her of her very tenuous grasp on her balance. Staggering violently to one side, Taylor felt her form collide with something warm and soft, realizing that it was the blonde when two more arms came around her. Blinking blearily, Taylor tried in vain to make sense of the panicked words that she could barely hear, to keep the concerned blue eyes staring down at her in focus. In the end, it all dissolved into inky blackness as her legs finally gave way and she slumped into the blonde girl’s arms.

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“-id your good deed for the day, Amy, but there’s a security guard here, and you can leave it in his hands. Dean’s called twice now; we were going to check out that Italian place, remember?” The words pierced the warm, comfortable haze that Taylor had been drifting in, slowly dragging her out of the blissful nostalgic grasp of unconsciousness.

As her mind cleared, Taylor braced herself for the return of that pervasive bone ache that she’d been dealing with for days, the nausea, but instead, she felt… comfortable. Despite the cold stone of the bench that she was laid upon, and the distinctly startling feeling of someone’s fingers ghosting over her throat, Taylor felt better than she had in days. She briefly considered opening her eyes to see what’s going on, but the odd tension in the hand that still gripped softly at her throat left her unsettled enough that she continued to play possum, once more eavesdropping on the two girls.

“Honestly, Vicky, I’d feel better if I waited around till she was up on her feet, but don’t let me keep you.” The brunette, Amy, as finally, Taylor put the name to the voice, let out a plaintive note, before continuing in an exasperated tone before the blonde could actually reply. “It’s fine, Vicky, I’ll be fine. I’m not a kid, and I know how the bus works. I’ll make my way home once I’m sure that everything is settled here.” There was a long, tense silence between the pair before ‘Vicky’ let out an exasperated huff.

“But, Amy, I-” The girl paused, hesitating, and Taylor could imagine that she was restraining herself from saying something before she finally let out a faint sigh and continued more softly. “Fine, Amy, Just… Text me once you’re done here. And, make sure that you’re home in time for dinner.” ‘Amy’ made a noise that could be construed as an agreement, and after several more seconds of lingering awkward silence, footsteps started and carried the blonde away. Taylor lay there quietly on her back, keeping her face slack. Or at least, she attempted to until she felt a sharp knuckle suddenly driving itself into space between her third and fourth rib on her right side as the girl looming over her let out a threatening hiss.

“I know you’re awake.” Letting out a sharp gasp at the pain, Taylor jerked and shuddered, sitting up, wiggling away from the sharp knuckles of the brunette. Pushing herself away from the other girl to the far end of the bench, Taylor sat there, rubbing a hand over the pain in her side and staring worriedly at the other girl.

Taking in the bald suspicion and accusation in the older girl’s dark eyes, Taylor’s heart sank, wondering what she’d done to give it away.

“And yes, I do know that you’re a parahuman.” Swallowing nervously, Taylor glanced from the other girl toward the security guard who seemed to be keeping his distance, meaning that the whispered accusation hadn’t reached him. Turning back, Taylor saw the cold accusation in the brunette’s eyes and nervously shifted back to try and put some space between the two of them.

“I… H-How?” She stared at the brunette and glanced around wondering what she’d done, was it the shop, had she screwed up someh-

“Considering that I just saved you from a rather drawn out and unpleasant finish due to _radiation poisoning,_ and you’re a bit young to be a nuclear physicist?” The words were cold, not in the least reassuring, though Taylor suddenly understood her rather rapid recovery. “I’m guessing that unless you’ve got the shittiest blaster power out there, you’re some form of Tinker, correct?”

“I- uh,” Swallowing nervously, Taylor rubbed at her side and nodded, glancing from the girl to the distant security guard who was still looming a short distance away, his attention on a trio of kids standing near a froyo stand in the food court and talking conspiratorially. Returning her attention to Amy, Taylor responded softly. “Yeah, Tinker.”

Amy lunged for her, and Taylor scrabbled back, but there was precious little room on the bench, and she smacked into the arm-rest behind her. Oddly instead of attacking her, though, the other girl merely grabbed her arm, holding it in a vice-like grip and pinning her in place with those cold hazel eyes as she spoke.

“The _only_ reason that I didn’t already turn you in is that you got me out of a very awkward double date with my sister, her boyfriend, and whatever baboon she was attempting to sneak on me, but if you think that I’ll let someone go around _my_ city tinkering with nuclear weapons, you’ve-” The girl’s harsh words washed over her and Taylor flinched, speaking up with a startled squawk cutting her off.

“W-weapons? Y-you’ve got it all wrong-!” She tried to jerk her arm free, accomplishing nothing beyond causing the other girl’s eyes to narrow dangerously. Shifting back in place, Taylor glanced around to see if anyone was looking at her, licking her lips and continuing in as soft of a whisper as she could. “It’s not a bomb; I was building a reactor.” The other girl stared hard at her and Taylor fidgeted under the cold appraising stare for several moments, letting out a sigh when the other girl pushed her back, releasing her.

“So, you’re not evil, just stupid.” The words were cool, mocking, and Taylor glared at the other girl, one of her hands lifting and rubbing the red skin of her arm, smoothing away the minor discomfort she felt.

“It’s not- I know what I’m doing.” Taylor started, earning herself an unimpressed look in response that brought colour to her cheeks. “Okay, fair. But unfortunately, my power didn’t come with ‘build radiation suits’ in its repertoire.” The other girl scoffed silently and shook her head, moving to pull out her phone. Panic washed into Taylor as the girl unlocked the screen and called up the phone app. “Wait, w-who’re you calling?”

“My Aunt. She’ll get someone from the Protectorate to come over and talk with you-” Taylor lunged forward when the other girl moved to press another button, snatching the phone out of Amy’s hands and locking it, scurrying back to her side of the bench. When Amy looked like she might lunge again, Taylor held up a hand.

“J-just wait. I-I can’t talk to the Protectorate. N-not yet.” The other girl hesitated, staring at her strangely. Taylor stared back, scrabbling in her mind for something, anything to say that would explain just why she couldn’t commit to joining the wards, or any team really. Not yet. In the end, she settled on something… close to the truth. “I-I’m not done building my thing yet; I can’t-”

“What are you building?” Amy’s question cut of her rambling, and Taylor stared at the other girl for a few moments as she edged closer and shifted back, holding the phone between them almost as a shield as she replied.

“It’s… a surprise?” Taylor tried, and when Amy lunged forward, she squeaked and shifted back, doing her best to use her long arms to keep the phone out of the smaller girl’s reach while also avoiding her elbows. “W-Wait, wait, stop!” Taylor cried out, getting one of her hands on Amy’s head and pushing her back. “Wait! Stop. I’ll show you, alright?” Taylor watched the other girl shift back slowly, staring at her suspiciously.

“It’s… not far. A short bus ride, I’ll take you to my lab, and I’ll show you what I’m working on if you promise not to tell anyone.” Taylor stared at the other girl, watching as she considered it for a few moments. Holding her breath, Taylor let out a tiny sigh when the other girl shifted back onto her seat and held out her hand expectantly. Taylor stared down at the phone in her hand for a moment before looking back at Amy. “P-promise?” A lingering silence grew between them, and Taylor kept the phone held to her chest until the other girl responded.

“Fine. I promise that I won’t call this in now, and if, _if_ what you’re doing doesn’t seem too dangerous, I won’t turn you in. Can I have my phone back now?” Taylor studied Amy, wondering if she could trust the other girl at her word, eventually deciding that she had little choice but to do so and reached out, handing the phone over. When Amy merely took the phone back and shoved it into her pocket, Taylor let out a sigh.

Glancing around, Taylor spotted her bag tucked away on the floor next to the bench, and she carefully opened it up, reaching in and pulling out the boxes within, checking each for damage before letting out a sigh and glancing up to find Amy still staring suspiciously at her. After another look at her own phone, Taylor carefully slid to her feet.

“We’ll need to catch the bus coming by shortly. We should get moving.” Glancing over her shoulder, Taylor watched as Amy fell into step behind her and contemplated making a joke about how Amy was ‘following her back to her lair,’ but the dark look in the older girl’s eyes made Taylor wonder what that sort of gallows humour would earn her. In the end, she opted for discretion and merely hustled toward the bus stop.

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‘Short bus ride,’ Amy discovered, was a rather flexible term to the tinker, apparently named ‘Taylor.’ In fact, since leaving the mall, they’d had to transfer onto two different buses, including a five minute hike between bus routes at one point, and only now as the bus they were on was trundling deeper into the more decrepit portions of the city did Amy start to really reconsider the prudence of following this strange cape that she’d met across the city.

Sadly, she didn’t have much time to reconsider her choice when the girl stood up and tugged on the ripcord next to her seat. There was a brief, sharp discussion between the bus driver and Taylor, but the man did indeed bring the bus to a stop. Taylor turned to stare at her, and Amy returned the look levelly, pushing to her feet and stalking toward Taylor. The minute widening of the younger girl’s eyes let Amy know that Taylor had probably expected her to balk at the idea of following her into the docks, and she kept her face settled into an impassive mask.

The other girl hopped out onto the cracked pavement, and Amy followed, glancing around. Even with the bright light of the sun, this place looked particularly dour, and she could only imagine what it looked like at night. Following Taylor when she set off, Amy kept her eyes peeled, taking in the various abandoned factories and warehouses around them as they moved past them, as they took another turn, Amy’s apprehension got the better of her, and she finally spoke.

“Where exactly are we going?” She called out, watching as Taylor hesitated, turning to glance back at her for a few moments before turning back in the direction she’d been going and pointing at a massive orange bricked building a bit further down the back alley from where they stood.

“That one is where my workshop is. C’mon, we’re nearly there.” Taylor hustled forward, and Amy followed, coming to a stop when the younger girl paused near a large crate and dragged it further down the alley with her, setting it next to the wall of the building that she’d indicated. Taking a step back, Amy watched, surprisingly impressed as Taylor moved around the alley, uncovering several other crates and boxes from various hiding spots and brought them all over, stacking them in a very specific pattern that formed a sort of staircase up toward the window nearly fifteen feet above them.

Taylor wasted little time once the tower was complete, scurrying up it with practiced ease and doing something to the window above to open it, vanishing into the window and letting it close in her wake. Amy stood on the grimy asphalt of the alley, staring at the towering pile of boxes and the decrepit building it rested against and wondered, once more, if she shouldn’t have just gone home and let her aunt know about the tinker.

In the end, it was the distant sound of a series of cracks that prompted Amy to move. Hopefully, it was a car backfiring, but Amy had little interest in standing here and finding out, and she moved quickly, scrabbling up the pile of boxes as carefully as she could, freezing whenever it groaned or wavered.

Reaching the window, she pulled it open and slid in, staring at Taylor standing on a rusty catwalk a foot below. Moving quickly, Amy grabbed the top of the window frame and dragged her legs through, dropping her feet to rest on the catwalk and turning to look around. It was a warehouse. Clearly, the catwalk they were on was suspended above nearly two dozen rows of twelve-foot high massive shelves designed to hold pallets.

Off to the left, an office sat at the same level as them, its windows shattered out, and the space within dark and haunting. Truthfully, that was a theme for the entire building, empty and abandoned. Each of the shelves below them sat yawning wide and empty, the floor covered in scattered refuse and broken glass. Taylor glanced at her and Amy moved closer to the other girl as she turned and walked along the catwalk, heading for the nearby stairs, as she trailed after Taylor, Amy voiced a question that she realized that she probably should have asked while still _outside_ the building.

“So… why is your secret workshop in an abandoned warehouse?” Amy blinked when Taylor laughed, jumping across a hole in the catwalk ahead of them. Amy stared nervously at the hole, leaping across to pace along in Taylor’s wake as the other girl descended down a set of rickety-looking stairs, speaking over her shoulder.

“I found this place when I was like, 12, I think? My dad actually works not too far away,” Taylor paused, gesturing in a vaguely eastern direction as she descends the last few steps to the cracked concrete floor. Continuing to relate the tale, the younger girl wove through the towering shelves where they’d rusted to the tracks that they’d once rolled on. “When I was younger, during the summer, me and… my friend, we were often looked after by my mom,” The girl paused, frowning as she stepped carefully over one of the rails that the shelves rested on, the two of them clearly working their way toward the area below the office that Amy had seen from above. “She was a professor at the community college, and she had most of the summer off, but sometimes she was asked to cover a summer class or two, typically when that happened she’d just bring us with her, and we’d sit in, doing our own thing in the back of the room.” Taylor paused a tiny smile on her lips as she continued picking her way across the floor.

“Unfortunately, due to an unforeseen incident involving Robert Frost, a very boring book of poems and a great many water balloons, we ended up with a two-day ban from the college campus, and my friend and I ended up being foisted off on Dad for the day. He tried to call in sick, but something came up, and we were basically bundled up in his truck and brought out here while he tried to fix it. We were supposed to wait in the truck, but we got bored and escaped.” The girl paused, moving to pull her backpack around, carefully unzipping it and pulling out something long and thin, golden in colour and filled with holes. “E- My friend had this fascination with abandoned buildings and she was going along testing the doors. The one over there,” Taylor gestured off to one side, and Amy followed her finger, blinking at a door that had clearly been welded shut to the south.

“It was unlocked, or I suppose more likely someone had busted it open. In any case, we found it open and spent nearly half an hour wandering around the shelves, looking for treasure. E-my friend found this.” Taylor held up the object and, after examining it for a moment, Amy realized that it was a punch card of sorts. The younger girl turned and waved toward a nearby nook and Amy followed her into the shadows under the office that she’d seen.

“We never managed to figure out what it was for, but my friend gave it to me as a memento, and we headed back out, only to be caught by my dad.” Taylor glanced back at her and Amy raised an eyebrow when the girl smirked at her almost conspiratorially. “When we told him what we’ve been up to, he grounded us both, but he did explain that this building belonged to a criminal.” Taylor paused, speaking absently as she worked her way through the burned-out remains of what was once an office floor, past several cubicles and destroyed antique computers, Amy following as closely as she could.

“It wasn’t until, E-” When Taylor paused, swallowing slowly, Amy stared at the girl’s face taking in her suddenly solemn expression curiously as she struggled to continue. “It wasn’t till a few years later that I ended up coming back here. Before I triggered, but this was a place that I could be alone. To re-” The girl cut off, switching tracks quickly. “Anyway, as I was exploring, I found this.” The girl gestured, and Amy shifted past her, peering over at an antique-looking clock-in machine.

She watched in abject fascination as Taylor approached the device, sliding the golden strip into it, and after gripping the handle on the side, pulled it down with a heavy thunk. Amy was surprised when nothing happened, at least for a second until there was a pair of responding heavy ‘thunks’ in response from the wall behind the machine. Taylor glanced back at her, speaking softly.

“I think this was supposed to be automatic, but there’s no power, just hold on a second.” Amy watched the younger girl move over to a part of the wall, leaning against it with her entire weight. When the wall started to push inwards, Amy blinked, moving over and putting her weight against the wall as well, and there was a low squeak of machinery spinning, and then the wall pushed in enough to reveal a dark space beyond.

“Thanks!” Taylor spoke quickly and then fished out her phone, giving it a series of quirk jerks that caused the flashlight to ignite without her having to turn it on. Impressed, Amy glanced at the other girl as she pushed into the darkness, turning back to stare at her. “Coming?” The challenge was obvious in the other girl’s voice, and Amy pulled out her own phone, turning it on and activating the flashlight as well, pushing into the dark after Taylor.

She was surprised when the other girl took a moment to push the wall mostly back into place, leaving only a tiny gap to grip it on their way out presumably. When the girl and caught her expression, she spoke sheepishly.

“It’s a bad part of town; we wouldn’t want the junkies following us in here.” The girl turned, and Amy brought her phone up, shining her light against Taylor’s back, illuminating the small room around them. It was maybe eight foot by eight foot with a desk, a computer and a series of filing cabinets within it that were all very dusty but much better preserved than the things in the office outside.

Taylor ignored these completely, heading for the yawning opening in the far wall and Amy followed her into what immediately revealed itself to be a narrow staircase that wound downwards into the stone foundation of the warehouse in a spiral. Amy wasn’t sure how long it took for them to reach the bottom, but for the entirety of the descent she was only kept company by the scuffing of their shoes on the dusty stone beneath them, their breathing in the enclosed stairwell and the scrape of her own hand along the dusty railing to her left.

After what felt like twenty or thirty minutes, but Amy suspected it was closer to ten, Taylor let out a curse and dashed off into the darkness below them. Hesitating, Amy called out after the other girl.

“Taylor?” The words echoed back at her, and cursing herself, Amy scurried down the steps herself, emerging into a small room, much like the one above, barring the massive doorway across the opposite wall. Taylor was already halfway into the yawning room beyond, her flashlight bobbing as she headed toward something covered in a huge white cloth, though any details beyond its size were hard to grasp with the wildly shaking light in Taylor’s hand.

Moving quickly across the floor, Amy used her light to avoid the numerous cables spread over the floor of the space, heading toward the tarp-covered object, listening to the distant muttering of the tinker as she hefted up part of the tarp and vanished under it, wiggling out of view. As she continued to approach, there was a bright spark from within the tarp and a loud curse followed by a heady metal clang before something within the tarp let out a loud shuddering hum, and suddenly, there was light around her.

One by one, lights blinked into being, scattered around the space, quickly revealed to be a massive tinker workshop, designed for work with vehicles of some sort. Amy stood rooted to the spot, slowly turning to take in the room. Massive workbenches were affixed to the walls, and a number of half-complete bits of equipment that looked much more advanced than the base materials on display were spread out over the counters.

The room was a strange pastiche of hyper-advanced and practically antique. The lights flickered ominously, and the fixtures were all brass, the workbenches all handmade, and the computers on the two desks were both practically antiques, but the laptop and all the active projects were all made of much more polished materials and looked practically space age. The most striking feature of the room was a huge brass disk set into the wall behind the tarp that Taylor was struggling to escape from.

A crown sat in the middle of the disc, surrounded by a laurel made of triple pointed leaves and ornate-looking polished orbs. Amy stared at the disk silently for several minutes before Taylor crashing to the floor next to whatever she’d been climbing around in drew her focus. Moving over, Amy let out a sigh and ducked down, lifting the tarp and helping a sheepish looking Taylor back to her feet.

“What were you doing in there?” Taylor stood up, dusting herself off with a huff, turning to glance back at her.

“Oh. The power went out. There’s no power coming down here anymore. I used to use generators, but the petrol was getting expensive, and since the reactor’s finished now, I can just run them off of Nobl-” When Amy lashed out a hand and grabbed Taylor’s arms, staring at the girl like she was an idiot, Taylor had the good sense to trail off, staring nervously back in her direction.

“The reactor you built is in **_that_**.” Amy pointed slowly at the covered object next to them, and Taylor nodded slowly, which made Amy tighten her grip and drag Taylor backwards. “The reactor that gave you radiation poisoning. The radiation poisoning that I had to fix, the radiation poisoning that there will not be **anyone** to fix if it affects _me_?” Taylor opened her mouth to argue, but Amy didn’t wait for her to do so, ignoring the sudden itchy feeling that she had and dragging the other girl by her arm away from the device and back toward the stairs and the safety of the floor above, ignoring her half-formed complaints the entire way.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[HHI is now live. =] This is the second project that I'll be working on. As with In Absentia, the chapters will be limited to 6k at the most, and I'll probably manage an update to both at least once a week to keep things moving. Before we get into the chapter itself, I will be the first to admit that this will probably be a bit of a lighter approach than most would have taken. If you'd rather have a grittier examination of the opening premise, *FuryouMiko actually did a snip over here, that's pretty good. This fic, in general, is supposed your typical light novel style romp, with a bit of deconstruction worked in there. Hopefully, it'll come out well.
> 
> For the record, I do in fact write fics where Taylor teams up with someone other than the ladies of the bay, but I told myself I'd only be doing two projects while INFC is on hiatus, and while In Absentia is my little passion project, Noelemahc was really fond of this idea when it came up and I've worked on it, and I imagine that he was really hoping it'd see the light of day. (Also it's probably the most outlined of my other side projects so it's a bit less work compared to In Absentia that has more backgrounding than INFC did, even.
> 
> Onto the chapter itself, we're mostly dealing with setup and stuff at this point. We get to see some of the divergences from canon and hint at other ones, we get to see how Taylor has managed to build a reactor without being caught on to by the PRT, and there's some fascinating characterization there. I enjoy that Amy is still kind of suspicious and grumpy, but clearly is open-minded enough in the setting to at least hear Taylor out. The second chapter is done, and once it's beta'd, I'll probably toss it out and then I imagine we'll start with the update schedule, so look forward to that.
> 
> Otherwise... I look forward to your feedbacks.]]


	2. Build - 0.2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[Got a bit busy with work, but here we are, part 2 of HHI. =]]]

_March 26th, 2011  
Dockfront, Brockton Bay_

  
“...You built _two_ reactors?” Amy was perched on the edge of the metal desk in the room behind the punch-in machine, staring at a very sheepish-looking Taylor. “You built a second reactor, based on directions you downloaded off the Internet, mind you, and then you _lost_ it?” Amy’s voice was slowly rising in pitch as she went on, watching as Taylor shrank away.

“I didn’t ‘lose’ it.” Taylor countered quietly, rubbing nervously at her arm. “It was stolen.” Amy lifted her hands, rubbing tiredly at her temples as Taylor pushed on heatedly. “But that’s not the point; the point is that I didn’t get the radiation from Noble’s reactor. Noble’s reactor is a fusion reactor, it doesn’t even produce radioactive byproducts, and it’s heavily shielded besides that. I had to build the other reactor to farm the Tritium and Deuterium that I needed to get the fusion reactor working, though.” Taylor seemed to notice her eyes narrowing dangerously, taking a step back and coughing softly.

“P-point is, it’s safe down there.” The girl trailed off, and Amy stared at her silently for a few moments before slowly pushing to her feet. She stood there, staring at the other girl, doing her best to not react to how absurd it was that the girl who had at least four inches on her in height was this intimidated by her. Stepping closer, Amy reached out, surprised when Taylor didn’t flinch back, and she moved to place her hand on Taylor’s arm. She held the girl for a few moments, letting her powers scour her form at an atomic level.

Only when it became clear that Taylor’s DNA hadn’t been shredded again did she release the other girl, letting out a slow snort before waving invitingly at the stairs. The look of relief on the other girl’s face let Amy know that Taylor hadn’t been as assured in the safety of ‘Noble,’ whatever it was, despite her assertions. Rather than arguing about that, though, Amy moved to follow Taylor down the stairs once more.

When they reached the bottom of the shaft, the lights were waiting for them, still flickering subtly. Taylor moved across the room, heading toward the mass under the huge sheet and set to work, trying to tug it away. Amy lingered by the doorway, turning to take in the details of the room once more, frowning as she considered how _old_ it looked. Moving across the floor, Amy found herself once more standing and staring thoughtfully at the brass relief on the wall, focusing on that symbol.

“Recognize it?” The question startled her, and Amy jerked her head toward Taylor, who’d spoken, staring at the tinker in confusion. Taylor responded with a look of curiosity and Amy shook her head slowly.

“No, I get the feeling that I’ve seen it somewhere before, but I can’t place it.” Amy shifted from foot to foot thoughtfully and turned back toward Taylor. “Do you know what it is?” For some reason, disappointment flooded through when Taylor merely shrugged her shoulders in response.

“No. I found it here. When I figured out what the card was for, I wasn’t able to do much exploring with the dark and stuff. I didn’t have a phone or anything back then. In the end, it took me a few days to find a flashlight and a few other things before I could come back and explore it all.” Taylor took a few steps away, moving over toward the large benches laden with paper and parts, moving to push herself up to perch on the edge of one of them, staring back at her.

“I didn’t even realize what I’d found, originally. Back then, it was just a cool looking workshop, with some half-finished cars. The secrecy was odd, but there is another access down that side that leads to street level.” Taylor lifted a hand, pointing toward a door that Amy hadn’t notice set into the far wall, continuing when Amy turned back to her. “It wasn’t until I triggered that I realized that the cars were anything beyond half disassembled chop shop rejects.” Amy glanced back at Taylor curiously, and the other girl laughed softly.

“Cars?” Taylor hummed faintly as she continued to follow her down, responding softly.

“Yeah, cars. There were two of them. They were these elegant cars, looked a lot like sports cars, but from what I could tell from the schematics and the work being done on them; they were going to be armoured and equipped with some devastating weapons.” Taylor gestured off to the bays, one of which held the mass of Taylor’s ‘Noble.' Amy followed the girl’s gesture, listening as she continued.

“They were cool, but I couldn’t do anything with them. I ended up cannibalizing them for parts and materials for Noble, they were actually kind of a godsend, considering how hard it is for most tinkers to source materials and stuff.” Amy glanced over at the bays, and then turned toward the sheet, humming curiously as she considered the size of the obscured bulk. The lab itself was tall, and yet the mass still nearly reached the roof. With another _hmmm_ , Amy glanced at Taylor, voicing something that’d been bothering her.

“Did you find any clue about who was working down here? Who the lab was being run by, that might have told us who they were working for.”

Taylor let out an equally thoughtful hum, instead of responding immediately, and Amy glanced at the other girl, studying her face as she tilted her head to the side.

“I’ve asked around, and while there have been a few tinkers besides Squealer that worked with cars but without giving up info about this place, I couldn’t really get help pinning them down. Whoever they were, though, they had… style. These cars were almost… James Bond-esque in design? Sleek, Elegant.” Taylor shrugged her shoulders quietly, turning toward the covered object in the middle of the room. “Actually,” The girl hesitated to turn back. “There is one thing.” Amy took in the thoughtful expression on Taylor’s face as she spoke. “When he found my friend and I here and told us about the criminal that ran it?” Taylor glanced back over at the brass relief on the wall, nodding at it thoughtfully.

“Dad has this… way of talking about most of the gangs in the city, but with this one? He was a bit more hesitant, almost disappointed?” Shrugging her shoulders, Taylor fell silent, and let her legs swing. Amy studied the girl for a moment before finally gesturing over toward the covered object, ultimately asking the question that Taylor had clearly been waiting for.

“So, what is it?” Amy watched as the other girl merely grinned at her and hopped to her feet instead of responding. Pushing off the bench and rolling her eyes, Amy followed Taylor toward ‘Noble,’ watching as the girl grasped the heavy tarp and tugged hard, pulling the fabric away.

Taylor had to move back nearly fifteen feet to drag the material entirely off the half-finished _thing_ that lay spread over one of the vehicle bays. It was huge and discordant, and at first glance, it looked like the cockpit of a fighter jet, though its canopy was completely opaque, and it slid forwards away from the bulk of the mass of the assembled portion of Taylor's build. Within the open space beneath where it typically rested, Amy could see the tops of two flight chairs of some sort peeking up, and the area within looked a lot deeper than most airplane cockpits that she'd seen in movies.

Wheels next to long narrow parts, motors, gears, armour, something that appeared to almost be parts of a boot, and another one on the other side. Joints, more long supports, more motors, gears, belts, and armour, and… hands. Amy blinked, taking a step back and looking at everything spread out like it was, lifting her gaze toward the ‘cockpit’ once more. Tilting her head and squinting, Amy could almost imagine it as a sort of torso, with a very tiny head visible above the rear of the cockpit, affixed behind where the canopy seemed to secure, its ‘eyes’ mismatched, one very large, with three tiny ones next to it.

“It’s a mech,” Amy commented faintly, glancing over when Taylor’s head whipped around to stare at her in blatant shock.

“H-how?” The girl’s shock was both endearing and kind of amusing, and Amy crossed her arms, turning back toward the half-finished construct.

“It’s not terribly difficult to see it when you’ve laid everything out like this.” Amy gestured toward the entire construct, having clearly been laid out in preparation for being easily assembled. “The general body shape is fairly obvious, arms here, feet there. The wheels are a bit baffling,” Amy glanced over at Taylor curiously.

“It’s multi-stage. It’ll have a transit mode, and an ambulatory one.” Blinking in fascination, Amy turned back toward the design, glancing up when Taylor continued. “I was uh, just a bit shocked. You uh, don’t seem the type to watch Gundam.” Taylor was clearly trying to speak in a way that would come off as inoffensive as possible, and Amy rolled her eyes.

“My dad was an artist.” Amy frowned as she wrapped her arms around herself. “We used to watch stuff like that together; it was kind of our thing. Gundam, Evangelion, Bubblegum Crisis, Appleseed.” Shrugging, Amy studied the device, quietly trying to imagine how it’d look in the modes that Taylor described.

“Is he…” Taylor’s voice was tentative, soft, and Amy perked up, glancing over at her worried expression, and she shook her head suddenly.

“Dead? No. Sorry. Just... “ Amy frowned, trailing off for a moment before continuing. “Dad’s just… He has issues… with his mental health sometimes. Things haven’t been great for a few years now.” Amy took a silent breath, turning to stare back over at the construct. There was a lingering awkward silence before Taylor chimed in softly.

“It was uh… my mom. That got me into this stuff. She was an English professor, and she loathed that I refused to read with her. She ended up tricking me into doing it with comics, manga and other stuff like that. We’d read it together. Dad never really understood, but... “ Taylor trailed off, and Amy glanced over, studying the profile of Taylor’s features silently. She didn’t have to ask whether Taylor’s mother was still with them, the profoundly distant look in the girl’s eyes said it all.

Rather than letting Taylor linger in those thoughts too long, Amy coughed politely to draw Taylor’s attention and gestured toward the cockpit. “How does it work? It looks pretty solid, so how do you see from inside?” Taylor glanced at her for a moment before perking up and striding over, carefully stepping over the parts and waving Amy over. Amy followed the younger girl’s path, moving between the unassembled limbs, climbing up onto the cockpit with Taylor and peering in at the seats.

“See these?” Amy glanced over at Taylor, staring at where the other girl was gently tapping something that looked like a black hexagonal tile the size of her palm that was affixed to the wall of the cockpit, sitting flush with other tiles of the same shape that ended up completely covering walls, and apparently floor, of the interior space.

“These are screens. Hundreds of 'em, actually. When the cockpit is sealed, they activate and provide an omnidirectional view of the surrounding area.” Amy tilted her head, trying to picture it as she studied the cockpit. “Actually, hop in.” Taylor nudged her and Amy started, turning back to the other girl.

“It’s fin-” She squeaked when Taylor gave her another nudge and then did as instructed, clambering up and into the cockpit, dropping down into the front seat. She shifted about on the surprisingly comfortable chair, and before really thinking about it, grasped the straps and secured herself in, staring up to catch Taylor’s amused eyebrow raise. “I- Just want to be prepared if this thing rolls over and squishes you.”

Taylor barked out a laugh at that before grabbing the canopy and dragging it shut. The entire canopy slid freely along its rails, securing shut and, true to Taylor’s words, the moment that it sealed the screens all lit up. However, they merely showed dark screens, or static, or error messages. Amy sat there in silence, a moment of worry beginning to grip her as the canopy remained sealed shut, and Amy realized that she had _no_ idea how to open it, though the panic eased minutely when a voice crackled over hidden speakers in the chair itself.

“-an you hear me?” Amy perked up, glancing around before speaking slowly.

“...yes?” There was a moment of measured silence in response before the crackly voice resumed.

“Oh. Good. The speakers are working. Can you see me?” Amy blinked and glanced around, wondering if Taylor could see her before responding.

“No, the screens are all staticky, and there’s an error message… in Japanese.” Taylor cursed softly over the line and, after a few moments of silence, Amy distantly felt the seat under her shifting just a touch and heard the sound of rattling around in the interior of the cockpit frame to her left.

After a few moments of work and softly muttered cursing, there was the sound of a faint sizzle, and then the screens around her shimmered. As sudden light washed over her, the screens revealed a pixelated rendition of the room outside that quickly came into crystal clear focus. This gave her a view of Taylor crouched to one side of the cockpit, halfway into an access hatch.

It also gave her a perfect view of a massive wash of sparks erupting around Taylor, and the girl kicking herself free, cursing loudly before with a shuddering whine, the seat under her suddenly stopped thrumming, and all the screens around her went black again. Overhead, a soft ‘click’ announced the canopy unlocking and Amy reached up, grabbing one of the handles built into it and gave it a firm tug, watching it smoothly slip free.

The room outside was inky black once more, and Amy removed her restraints, then pushed herself up to stand on her seat, peeking out of the cockpit in the direction she’d watched Taylor leap.

“Taylor… you hurt?” She called out curiously. The low, pained groan in response wasn’t promising, though the joke that followed it softened Amy’s concern.

“Just my pride. And my ass.”

Levering herself over the edge of the canopy, Amy dropped down onto the ground, fishing out her phone and activating the flashlight, moving to pick her way through bits of machinery toward Taylor’s sprawled-out form. Dropping down next to the taller girl, she leaned closer, ignoring Taylor’s grumbling and carefully checked her face, assuring herself that the girl had only secured herself some minor burns before leaning back.

“Sorry bout that. I think I burned out the power distributor. Hopefully, it’ll be a quick fix.” Amy kept her light up as Taylor staggered back to her feet and made her way over to the nearby work station and grabbed a giant flashlight off it then offered it over to her. Shutting off her phone, Amy tucked it away and grabbed the giant light, turning it on and shining it back at the desk, watching Taylor gather several bits off of it.

Without really thinking about it, Amy also followed the other girl when she picked her way back toward the mech, and crouched down next to the side, lowering herself to shine a light into the interior of the device so that Taylor could use it see what she was doing as she began to remove parts, check them and then replace them.

“So you’ve seen Bubblegum Crisis?” Taylor spoke curiously, and Amy shrugged her shoulders, earning a _tsk_ from Taylor as she bobbled the light a bit. Holding the light steady, she responded softly.

“Yeah, it’s alright. Parts three and four were… interesting. Kind of reminded me of some of the more high-brow plots in a few of the Ghost in the Shell episodes I managed to sneak past dad.” Amy blinked when Taylor let out a laugh, but the other girl didn’t comment, merely humming thoughtfully as she continued to work.

“Well, let’s hope that this thing doesn’t develop a mind of its own, or we’ll be in for a bit of trouble,” Taylor chuckled, and Amy stared at her worriedly, Taylor seemed to catch on after a moment and turned back to assure her quickly. “That won’t happen. This thing doesn’t have an AI.” Rolling her eyes, Amy turned back to watching Taylor work.

“What about you? What was your favourite part?” Amy blinked when Taylor glanced up at her with a smirk, though the girl’s answer should have been obvious.

“Tinsel City Rhapsody, of course.” Amy rolled her eyes as she stared into the machine once more as Taylor laughed, before changing the subject to Evangelion, and they ended up dropping into a lively debate to pass the time as Taylor tinkered.

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In the end, it had only taken about twenty minutes for Taylor to repair the damage that she’d done to the mech, and they had light again. The conversation about anime had dried up just like the light had allowed Taylor to do the last of her double-checking without Amy at her shoulder to hold it, and the other girl had taken the opportunity to stand up and look around. Taylor had watched as she stood, staring thoughtfully at the brass crest on the wall for a few minutes before ending up perched on the chair by her workstation, leafing through her schematics.

“So,” speaking as she stood up, Taylor made her way over to the nearby sink and took one of the bottles of water standing next to it, using it and the heavy-duty soap off the sink to scrub at the deep blue grease that coated her hands. Making sure that she had Amy’s attention, Taylor continued, hating the stutter that came into her voice as she voiced the question that’d been bothering her for the last half hour. “A-are you gonna tell?” The other girl’s surprised reaction made Taylor regret even asking the question, silently wondering if the other girl had forgotten the reason that she came down here.

“Why are you so opposed to it?” It was Taylor’s turn to be surprised, a frown on her lip as she considered Amy’s curious expression. “I mean, you’re not doing anything _too_ illegal here, and you’d probably be fine with the stipend that the Wards get, and your stuff is powerful, so why does the idea of joining them bother you so much?” Amy stared at her and Taylor averted her eyes, turning away to stare at the mech. Taking a breath, Taylor glanced back toward Amy and nodded at the machine.

“Did you notice anything odd about the cockpit while you were in there?” Amy blinked at her in confusion, turning to stare at the open cockpit for a few moments. In the end, It took the other girl nearly a minute of staring at the mech to figure out what Taylor was alluding to.

“...There are two seats.” The words were whispered softly, the first time, but Amy glanced at her and repeated them as a question. “Why are there two seats?” Taylor stared at Amy for a moment and let out a sigh.

“The suit, as it's designed, requires two people to operate. An engineer that manages the systems and keeps it running, that’s me, and it also requires, er- a pilot.” Amy’s gaze narrowed, and Taylor nervously took a step back before continuing in a more subdued tone. “It’d be… a bit unfair of me to commit to being a Ward if that’s not what my pilot wanted.” Taylor was a bit surprised when Amy shook her head slowly, glancing over at the mech. There was a lingering silence before Amy’s voice drifted back toward her.

“And I’m guessing you won’t tell me who your pilot is?” Taylor glanced at Amy, but she didn’t even have a chance to argue before the girl waved a hand, pushing herself up and off the bench and straightening up. “Yeah, s’what I thought. Fine.” A flicker of relief washed through Taylor that was so profound that she _nearly_ missed Amy’s follow up comment. “I won’t rat you out _if_ you agree to let me come back here and check up on you to make sure that you’re not going to blow my city up.” Taylor stared over at the other girl’s steady gaze for a few moments before nodding slowly.

Nodding in response, Amy took several steps over and offered out her phone, and Taylor stared at it blankly for several moments until she realized that the other girl wanted her number. Taking the phone in hand, Taylor moved her thumbs over the screen expertly, adding an entry under ‘T’ and put in the number for her cell phone before handing the phone back. Amy accepted it smoothly, activating the screen and swiping several times.

It was only when Taylor’s own phone dinged that Taylor realized that the other girl had been testing the number to see if she’d used a fake one. Pressing her lips into a thin line, Taylor narrowed her eyes at Amy, who merely looked unrepentant as she stuffed her own phone into her pocket. Taylor pulled out her phone, checked the message that simply said ‘Test.’ Quickly adding a contact in her own phone that simply said ‘Amy,’ Taylor checked the time and winced.

“We should get going,” Taylor commented faintly, watching Amy glance at her in shock. “It’s my night to make dinner, and it’s nearly six already, I should get going if I’m gonna beat Dad home.” Amy nodded agreeably and moved to stand by the door. Moving over toward Noble’s half assembled chest, Taylor crawled up onto the lip and leaned in. A series of holographic displays sprang to life around the rear seat, and she stretched out, tapping the power core controls and deactivated the suit causing the lights to shudder out.

Amy’s flashlight illuminated the floor for her and Taylor hopped down off the suit, picked her way over to where the other girl waited and set off up the stairs in Amy’s wake.

“So. You’re in school, right?” Amy’s question surprised her and Taylor hummed faintly in the affirmative, prompting the girl to continue. “And you’ve got your dad around, how exactly have you had all the time to do this, how long have you been doing it?” Blinking, Taylor considered the back of Amy’s head for a few moments before responding.

“About two months. But uh, I don’t sleep… anymore? I do my tinkering at night. I wait for Dad to fall asleep, and I just… come out here, work till sunrise, and then take the bus back to the house, and then act like I’m coming in from a jog-” Amy staggered to a halt before she and Taylor nearly crashed into the older girl. When Amy turned to stare at her, Taylor raised a hand, shielding her eyes. “Jesus, Amy!”

“You don’t sleep? At all?” The question shocked her and Taylor shrugged nervously and bowed her head away from the light.

“No? Apparently, it’s not an unheard-of adaptation for tinkers to need _less_ sleep, but full-on Noctis cape status is… rare. Helpful, though, considering how full my schedule is.” Amy stared at her for a few moments before muttering something under her breath and turning to climb back up the stairs. Taylor stared at the girl’s back and followed her up.

“Right.” A thoughtful silence hung around Amy as they exited the secret room behind the punch card machine, sealing it in their wake. Taylor took the lead up the stairs, and she was the first out of the window, and once Amy had joined her on the ground, Taylor hid the boxes once more while Amy watched curiously.

The lingering contemplation was a bit worrisome as Amy watched her thoughtfully while they headed to the bus, and Taylor wasn’t sure what she could say to draw the other girl out of her ruminations. In the end, Taylor remained silent as the bus trundled along. When Taylor’s first transfer came up, she slid to her feet and headed to the exit, surprised when Amy’s voice came after her.

“Good night.” The words were gentle, and Taylor turned, flashing the girl a quick, nervous smile and responding in kind before hopping out of the bus and heading down the street to catch the bus that would take her home, feeling Amy’s one her until the bus pulled away and she was on her way home.

The worry that Amy would still turn her in, despite her assurances, lingered with Taylor through the rest of the ride home, and well into the dinner preparations that followed.

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Staring out the window, Amy stared at the familiar streets that were finally coming past, pulling out her phone and checking it carefully. Almost a quarter to seven. Nearly an hour from Taylor’s lab to home, that was a hell of a trip. Rubbing tiredly at her eye, Amy levered herself to her feet as the familiar stop rounded the bend ahead and tugged on the pull cord next to her. When the bus rumbled to a halt, Amy hopped out onto the street and turned to walk up the road toward the house.

Letting her sneakers slap against the concrete under her, Amy walked toward her house, her thoughts lingering on the Tinker that she’d spent most of the afternoon with, frowning deeply as she considered whether she could, in good conscience, actually keep Taylor’s secret. Despite her assertions, Taylor had nearly died, and her workspace was literally in the middle of a gang-infested wasteland.

As she turned up the drive, Amy’s thoughts stalled as she saw a familiar car parked in the drive next to her mother’s Lexus and her father’s Bentley. Staring at the familiar vibrant red paint and sleek lines of Dean’s car, Amy felt her stomach turn as she hesitated at the end of the drive for a few moments. Eventually, though, Amy glanced at her phone and checking the time, she advanced up toward the house.

She didn’t let herself linger on the porch like she wanted, neither did she pull out her phone for the dozenth time since she’d watched Taylor dismount that bus, she instead pushed through the door and into the house. The sound of conversation and laughter in the living room trailed off, and Amy ignored the awkward silence that lingered in its wake as she kicked off her shoes, removing her jacket and hanging it by the door.

Turning, she found her mother standing at the entrance to the living room, staring at her, and she did her best to paint an innocent smile on her face. Carol curiously inspected her from head to foot, and Amy was glad that she’d taken a few minutes to remove the worst of the dust that she’d been coated in from her clothing after exiting the factory, while she’d watched Taylor putting the boxes away.

“Where’ve you been all afternoon?” Amy stared at Carol, taking in the woman's curious look and shrugged her shoulders, glancing past the woman toward where Vicky and Dean were peering curiously out of the living room. Victoria raised her eyebrow questioningly, and Amy turned her attention back toward Carol, responding softly.

“While Vicky and I were shopping, we ran into someone that nearly passed out on us.” She watched Carol’s eyes narrowing, the frown on her lips vanishing as they thinned noticeably, but Amy pushed on before Carol could start in on how she had to be careful about how she used her powers in public. “She was fine. Just a really bad case of the flu. She nearly toppled Vicky, so I didn’t feel right leaving her that sick.” Glancing over at Vicky, Amy spoke to her sister instead of staring into Carol’s eyes.

“When she woke up, she was pretty embarrassed, and I guess she heard you talking about that Italian place. She wouldn’t let me get out of there without letting her buy me something to eat. We ended up going to a different Italian place that she knew about. It was nice. I got a bit distracted.” Amy studied Victoria’s face, blinking as her sister’s expression shifted from openly curious to something… else.

Turning toward Carol, Amy wasn’t surprised to see a familiar suspicion in the woman’s dark eyes. But Carol didn’t comment on anything beyond merely turning toward the kitchen and speaking smoothly.

“Well it’s good that you ate, you did agree to be over at Saint Hope’s by seven-thirty, and as it is, you’ll need to be leaving shortly.” Amy tugged out her phone, checking the time and sighing quietly. Lifting her head when Vicky muttered something under her breath to Dean, Amy quickly averted her eyes when Vicky planted a kiss on the boy.

When she moved to try and walk past Carol, the woman moved to admit her and Amy was glad that she wouldn’t be having _that_ particular conversation tonight, quickly scampering up the stairs and heading toward her room, ignoring the sounds from below as Dean loudly proclaimed that he should be getting on, and the muted responses from her parents.

Quickly rifling through the contents of her closet, Amy changed into clean white pants and a tank top before wriggling into her robe and smoothing it all down, making sure that everything was in place before slipping out of her room. When she descended the stairs, she peered into the living room, studying her mom and dad as they reclined on the couch watching the movie on the television.

When her dad glanced up, Amy flashed him a tentative smile that widened a bit when he returned it. Lifting her hand before Carol noticed them, Amy gestured toward the door, moving to head out of it when he nodded in response, indicating that he’d make sure that Vicky found her. Heading out the door, Amy walked out onto the porch, staring at the lights of Dean’s car as it pulled away.

Only when the boy’s car had completely vanished from view did Amy let her form relax a bit, moving forward to drop into a seat on the edge of the porch. In the end, surprisingly, it didn’t take her terribly long to finally give in to the temptation to pull her phone out, curiously scrolling through her contacts and clicking on Taylor’s name.

As with every other time she’d done this, she stared silently at the text message box, struggling and failing to come up with something to say.

**_[So, uh… about that mech, what ex-]_** Growling with irritation, Amy deleted the message, trying again.

**_[Thanks for showi-]_** Rubbing at her eye, Amy deleted the message again, letting out a startled gasp when Victoria’s leg suddenly appeared in her periphery and her older sister smoothly dropped down beside her.

“So. ‘T,’ huh?” Amy blinked, glancing between her sister and her phone and flushing as she quickly shut it off and stuffed it away.

“It’s rude to read over people’s shoulders.” Her response, while not overly eloquent, was, nonetheless, correct. Victoria’s abashed response was certainly indicative of that. Still, her sister was nothing if not persistent and rather than dealing with her pestering, Amy decided to answer the question. “Taylor. Her name is Taylor.”

“Taylor, huh? How old is she?” Vic’s question raised several warning bells in Amy’s mind, and Amy shifted nervously away from her.

“I didn’t ask… we mostly talked about other stuff. I guess she’s roughly my age, fifteen or sixteen probably?” Amy realized that she’d made a mistake when her sister’s eyes widened thoughtfully, and the girl leaned closer.

“Other stuff?” Scrabbling for something, anything to say besides ‘Secret Tinker Labs,’ Amy chose the closest thing she could think of to the truth.

“Anime, mostly. And uh. You know. Just. _Stuff_. School stuff. About the city, she’s from out by the docks. She’s… easy to talk to.” Amy turned to look away from Vicky, hiding the way her cheeks burned at the minor fib, doing her best to ignore the suspicion clear in Vicky’s eyes. “We should get going, though. I’m gonna be late.” Vicky nodded and stood up, and Amy followed, allowing her sister to lift her up and carry them into the sky.

“So, what were you thanking her for showing you?” Closing her eyes, Amy silently counted to ten before opting to entirely ignore her sister, staring out over the city watching as a cool bank of fog began to creep into the city in the distance. “C’mon, Amy-”

“Can we just… fly quietly? I’m a bit tired.” Amy glanced up at her sister, taking in Vicky’s shocked expression, and doing her best to swallow the surge of guilt that she felt for putting it there. Thankfully, though, the questions tapered off, and the rest of the trip continued in blessed silence.

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Arm curled up behind her head, Taylor lay in bed, phone resting on her chest as she stared up at the ceiling. Around her, faint groans and creaks were audible as the older house settled. Also, distantly audible was a faint whisper from the television in the room below. It would be generous to say that her father had an evening ‘schedule’, but most nights, he was in bed by midnight since he tended to be up most days at six, six-thirty at the latest.

Lifting her phone, Taylor pressed the button on the side and checked the time. Barely past eleven. Letting out a sigh, Taylor dropped the phone to her side and tried to ignore the voice in the back of her head that asked her why she was so obsessed with what Amy's reaction would be. Obviously, her mind supplied, she didn't want to get drafted into the Protectorate or the Wards, part of her wondered if she'd be able to actually stomach working with those people, with-

Sighing softly as she cut off her mental train of thought, Taylor rolled onto her side, tucking her arm up and under her pillow and briefly contemplated the fact that somehow, the PRT hadn’t actually shown up on her stoop yet. Amy didn’t seem like the sort of person that cared what people thought of her, and Taylor had understood that it was a pipe dream hoping that she’d keep her word. Part of her had been _convinced_ that despite her assurances and promises, Amy would turn her in, and the fact that she hadn’t was… surprising.

Lifting her phone, Taylor turned it on, and navigated through the device to the contact list, staring at the only two entries. She considered Amy’s name for a few moments before clicking away, heading for the internet.

Keeping an ear out, Taylor worked her way through the back end of the Toybox website, using her three passwords to get into the tinker forums. Checking the various threads that she’d posted in, Taylor clicked through to her PM’s.

* * *

  
**Welcome to the Toybox message boards.**  
You are currently logged in, Noble00  
You are viewing:  
• Threads you have replied to  
• OR private message conversations with unanswered replies  
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• Threads and private messages are ordered chronologically.

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**Private Messages with ChopShop**

**Noble00**

_Replied on March 26th, 2011:_

I’m fine, Chop, it’s just a cold.

**► ChopShop** _(Technician)_

_Replied on March 26th, 2011:_

Seriously though, Noble, you really, really should go see a doctor if you’re feeling that sick.

  
Staring at the message on the screen, Taylor rubbed tiredly at her face, clicking on the reply box and setting her thumbs to work responding to the message. This was going to be a pain; she could already tell.

**Noble00**

_Replied on March 26th, 2011:_

So. Good news, and bad news, Chop. Good news is, you were right. It wasn’t a cold, and the better news is that it’s not an issue anymore.

  
Taylor set her phone on her chest and winced when there was an immediate reply. She’d hoped that responding so early might have earned her a few minutes of respite since Nid typically was around more at night. Taylor read the message quietly and rolled her eyes, typing out her response quickly.

**► ChopShop** _(Technician)_

_Replied on March 26th, 2011:_

...What? How is it not an issue, Noble? You were really, really sick.

**Noble00**

_Posted on March 26th, 2011:_

Well, that’s bad news. I might have accidentally collapsed on someone at the mall. Luckily, by some quirk of good fortune, the person I collapsed on was the sister of Panacea, this local cape healer? She uh. Fixed me up? Which, I think, would also be termed good news, actually.

**► ChopShop** _(Technician)_

_Replied on March 26th, 2011:_

...You accidentally stumbled into Panacea and got healed, and that’s the bad news?

**Noble00**

_Posted on March 26th, 2011:_

Well, actually. The bad news is that she was _very_ curious about why I had radiation poisoning? And she was gonna turn me into the PRT, so I had to do something. So, I might have taken her back to my lab to show her that I was not, in fact, building giant bombs.

**► ChopShop** _(Technician)_

_Replied on March 26th, 2011:_

And so you took her back to your secret lab? Instead of just running? Not telling her your name? Literally anything else?

**Noble00**

_Posted on March 26th, 2011:_

She had me in a vice grip, and her power is ‘fuck with your insides’ I didn’t think fighting was a good idea; in any case, I’m not in custody, so it seems like things turned out okay…

* * *

  
Taylor’s phone let out a ding, a text message coming in, and Taylor quickly finished up her comment.

… but I’ve gotta go; I’ll talk to you later, Chop.

  
Navigating through the phone once more, Taylor pulled up the text message, clearly from Amy, and read it.

**_[So. I have one question.]_ **

Taylor stared at the message curiously, idly moving to tap out a response, surprised when Amy’s responses came quickly, hinting that the girl was waiting for her messages.

**_[Yeah?]_ **

**_[Why ‘Noble’?]_ **

**_[Oh, uh. It’s a pun. It’s the first iteration of the Noble Line. Noble01. Get it?]_ **

**_[Ha. Cute. You going to be tinkering tonight?]_ **

**_[I tinker most nights.]_ **

**_[I might swing past, kinda need to get out of the house for a while. And I guess someone should make sure that you don’t set yourself on fire.]_ **

**_[...Alright, fair enough.]_ **

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[Huzzah! Another chapter up, and I only cheated on my limit by 500 words, cause I'm terrible and don't know when to stop.
> 
> As for the chapter itself, we got some explanation on the radiation and the tinker lab, and we get to see the mech finally, though it's not quite ship-shape just yet. Amy assures herself that just being in there won't kill her and Taylor nearly sets her hair on fire again. The two bond over weeb stuff, and then we get more hints about things to coooome. There's not a lot to unpack here, really, but I do look forward to your reactions. Our next update will be for In Absentia, so we'll hopefully see something new for HHI sometime later in the week, around the weekend.
> 
> Good Reading. =].]]


	3. Build - 0.3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[Sorry about the delay! It's been a bit of a hectic week, but hopefully, the IA update will be a bit quicker. =] Once again we're a couple of hundred words over the limit, but there is a forum thing at the bottom so I'm sure that you'll forgive me. I'll see you nerds at the bottom for the post notes. =].]]

_April 3rd, 2011_   
_Dallon Residence, Brockton Bay_

The cursor flashed tauntingly at Amy as she stared at the half-finished document on her screen. The assignment wasn’t due for a couple of days. Still, it was particularly galling that the damn thing refused to form itself into something vaguely resembling coherent thoughts, despite her spending almost two hours sitting here. Fighting the urge to open another tab on her browser, Amy glanced at the clock.

Ten-fifteen. Almost forty-five minutes past her curfew, though that hadn’t really stopped her at all the rest of the wee- Gritting her teeth, Amy shook her head, and turned back toward her computer, lifting her hands and resting them on the keyboard even though they still refused to type anything. Staring at the white page, Amy’s eyes unfocused as she thought against her will about something else she could have been doing instead of sitting here, glaring angrily at her monitor.

Amy had told herself as she was sneaking back into the house at nearly six in the morning last Sunday that she wouldn’t let this become a _thing._ Despite that, she’d crept out of the house three times in the middle of the night because she couldn’t sleep. Three times, she’d found herself on those buses, trundling through the city toward Taylor’s workshop for something bright and productive to keep the dark thoughts at bay.

It wasn’t always the best sort of company. Taylor was often distracted working on Noble, building the mech or modifying its gear as she went, but there was _something_ about the other girl that just eased Amy’s frustrations. Perhaps it was the way that she tended to idly chatter while she worked, even if the comments tended to end up as some sort of nonsense due to Taylor’s focus on what she was working on.

Amy wasn’t sure, but she’d seen this _look_ in Taylor’s eyes that made her suspect that the other girl understood the idea of just... not wanting to be alone, but not wanting to talk either, and so they ended up just... existing near each other. Sometimes they didn’t even interact; Amy would surf the Internet, or study Taylor’s schematics. Occasionally she also assisted with the work, holding up tools or lights. But what Amy usually looked forward to was when Taylor would take a break from her work, and she’d realize what a lousy host she’d been, and she’d try to entertain her.

They’d just sit and watch an anime on Taylor’s tiny laptop, play cards, or just talk about stuff. Nothing overly personal, really, just… stuff. Amy would sit on the desk, and they’d talk about the fandoms that they were both too cool to identify with, or they’d talk about how Taylor had wanted to be a novelist in her youth, and Amy had wanted to be an animator. Oddly, Taylor didn’t often bring up Amy’s powers, which was a novel experience for her, but they did discuss Taylor’s work.

They ended up talking about Noble a lot. Taylor was quite the proud parent, and she often would lapse into discussions about the mech’s design, and how it would work. Despite that pride, she was always happy to take Amy’s impressions; she’d even allowed Amy to-

A shout filtered through the adjoining wall startled Amy from her thoughts, and she closed her eyes, silently listening to the furious debate that she could tentatively hear through the walls. When something crashed to the floor, Amy flinched and moved, before even thinking about it, stalking over to the door and quickly locking it. Pausing by the door, Amy flicked off the light switch and took several steps toward her bed, hesitating in the middle of the room and listening as the heated argument continued in the next room over.

She knew what would happen, though. Victoria would finish yelling at Dean, and she’d sit there in muted fury for a few moments before the tears came, and then she’d come knocking at Amy’s door with those tears on her face. And Amy would crumble like she always did, letting her in. And then she’d spend another night laying in bed with Victoria, a respectable distance between them as she watched her sister sleep, agonizing over-

Swallowing, Amy shook herself from her thoughts and stared at the computer for a moment longer before making a decision. Stalking over, she quickly tapped out the key combination that would put the whole mess to sleep and turned toward her dresser, opening it carefully and fishing out some dark clothing. Black jeans, a t-shirt, and a sweater were pulled out, tossed onto the bed, and then Amy went to where she’d been keeping her sneak-out-of-the-house shoes and coat in her closet.

Changing in the dark was a bit of a complicated affair, but she’d managed to fumble her way through it just in time to hear a muted growl from her sister’s room. Slipping into her shoes, Amy made her way toward her window, freezing when Victoria’s door slammed, and there came a tentative knock at her door. Amy stood in the middle of her room, staring at the door as Victoria’s voice drifted through it.

“Ames? You awake?” Discomfort wormed its way through Amy, but she kept her lips pressed into a thin line, and resisted the urge to walk across the intervening distance between herself and the door, telling herself that she’d have to explain her outfit, her shoes. Victoria hesitated long enough that Amy began to doubt her decision, but thankfully, after a few moments, footsteps moved away from her door and headed toward the stairs.

Letting out a weary sigh, Amy turned back toward the window, slipping over and carefully pushing it up. Halfway through lifting her foot to slip out, Amy froze and pulled back, slipping over to her desk and opening the top drawer, pulling out the short mechanical device that Taylor had given her when she’d started wandering through the docks by herself at night to visit. Flicking it out, Amy watched as the device extended into a baton, the tip lighting up with a brilliant arc of white energy.

Grabbing the baton with her other hand, Amy twisted the handle, causing the device to contract back into itself and go dark. Stuffing it into her jacket pocket, Amy headed back to the window, slipping out and bracing herself on the windowsill. Holding herself carefully, Amy closed the window before moving as stealthily as she could across the small roof toward the side of the house. Lowering herself to hang from the edge of the roof, Amy dropped onto the damp snowy ground to the side of the house.

She turned toward the street, staring longingly at the nearby bus stop for a few moments, contemplating just leaving. Still, the guilt tore at her until she padded across the grass toward the window nearby that she could see the flashing light of the television from. Amy pushed up onto her toes, peering into the window. Thankfully it was dark enough outside that if she weren’t too obvious, she would hopefully not be spotted during this quick peek.

She stared at her mother and father curled up together on the couch, watching some action movie on the television. Amy held herself still as Victoria walked into the room, looking a bit downtrodden, flopping down onto the couch next to their mother. Amy breathed a faint sigh of relief as Carol seemed to mutter something supportive, wrapping an arm around Vicky’s shoulders and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. When Victoria leaned into Carol’s shoulder and tucked herself under the blanket around the woman’s lap, Amy’s frown faded, and the guilt that she’d been feeling mostly faded away.

Pushing back from the wall, Amy tightened her coat around her shoulders and turned to stalk across the grass toward the bus stop. Pulling out her phone, she checked the time and hummed faintly in thought. She’d gotten better at figuring out the labyrinthine nature of the public transit system over the last week, and she could probably make it to the workshop before midnight.

When a bus started to loudly rumble its way up the hill toward her, Amy jogged toward the bus stop, fishing around in her pockets for the proper change that she’d need.

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Carefully gripping the warm brown takeout bag in her lap, Amy stared out the window at the abandoned warehouses and factories as they drifted past, counting them idly as she did most nights. When the familiar boarded-up facade of what was once a soup kitchen rounded the bend ahead of the bus, Amy reached up and tugged on the ripcord over her head.

Taking the bag in hand, Amy pushed to her feet as the bus rattled to a stop, and she stalked toward the front of the bus. The familiar pitying look was present on the man’s face, and Amy was tempted to say something, anything to dissuade the man of the assumptions that he’d clearly been making. Taylor had warned her that if she kept taking the bus out this part of town, this late at night, she would almost certainly be pegged as some form of junkie.

Despite how much that idea rankled her, Amy also couldn’t think of anything that she could say that would convince the man that she wasn’t a fresh new addict, so she just let the man think what he would as she slipped out of the bus. She stood, watching as the bus started back up and pulled away, and she waited till it’d rounded the corner before heading around the side of the soup kitchen and quickly shuffling down the back alley.

By now, she’d already memorized the path, traveling quickly through the less populated portions of the docks, all the while keeping her free hand wrapped around the baton in her pocket. She hadn't had to use it yet, but she wasn’t risking it at this point. Thankfully, when she found the familiar warehouse that Taylor had shown her, Amy wasn’t obligated to find the stack of boxes and climb up the precarious tower.

Taylor had eventually seen the light when Amy pointed out that it was only a matter of time until someone figured out that the pile of boxes continually appearing and disappearing outside this building was a tell, and they’d spent an evening doing some work on the building itself.

Moving up to the edge of the street, Amy glanced up and down the road, verifying that it was entirely empty before walking over and pulling out her keys. A simple magnetic tag was pressed to the chipped paint of the exterior door, and Amy let out a faint sigh when the familiar click of the lock was heard. Quickly tugging on the door, Amy ducked in and out of the wind, pulling the door closed in her wake.

Stuffing her keys away, Amy quickly walked down the aisles, doing her best to not focus on just how hauntingly spooky this place was late at night, especially when she was by herself. Despite this, her pace increased steadily as she headed toward the offices at the far end of the warehouse, only slowing down once she was out of the empty gaping shelves and into the demolished office.

Thankfully, Taylor was indeed here, and the hidden door was unlocked and left a crack open, like Taylor typically left it. Setting the bag of tantalizing food down on the floor next to the clock-in machine, Amy braced herself against the wall and _pushed._ When she’d first seen Taylor do this, Amy hadn’t truly appreciated how much a four foot by seven-foot section of the brick wall actually weighed.

The wall was on rails, which meant that if Amy braced her entire frame against it and pushed with all her might, she could _slowly_ force the gap wide enough for her to squeeze through. That being said, getting the damned thing pushed back to where Taylor had left it was just as hard, and the entire exercise left Amy convinced that the next thing she’d heckle Taylor into fixing would be that entrance.

Running a hand through her damp hair, Amy scooped up the food and headed across the dusty room, moving to descend the stairs. Halfway down the winding stairs, the sound of music reached her, drifting up from below, and Amy couldn’t resist the tiny smile that appeared on her lips. Oddly enough, despite her apparent fascination with Anime, Taylor’s taste in music tended to skew away from the stereotypical J-rock and into several of the more esoteric electronic fronts.

Crossing the floor of the small office outside of Taylor’s workshop, Amy hesitated when she caught sight of the distinct too-bright glare of the plasma-welder reflecting off Noble’s substantial bulk. Deciding that she’d rather avoid _another_ lecture about appropriate attire in the workshop from Taylor (as well as having dark spots in her eyes for hours), Amy headed toward the lockers set by the massive open door.

Opening the locker that she had claimed, Amy pulled her hair back into a short ponytail, tying it off before stripping off the coat that she’d been wearing. Hanging it in the locker, Amy exchanged it for the dark blue cover-all that Taylor had found for her. Amy wasn’t sure who ‘Salvatore’ was, but she pitied the man if he was the same size as her. Kicking off her boots, Amy stepped into the dark garment, zipping it up over her front and then pulling out the battered steel toe boots that Taylor had also found for her, lacing them up absently.

Once she was ‘properly’ attired, Amy grabbed the leather gloves out of the locker, stuffing them into her pockets before pulling out the welding mask that hung within and slipping it over the crown of her head. Amy wasn’t sure why she felt so cool when she flicked her head forward, causing the mask to snap into place, but she didn’t fight the sensation as she grabbed the food and headed toward Taylor.

Amy had been surprised the first time that she’d worn the mask, assuming from the television and movies she’d seen that the thing would be practically impossible to see out of. Taylor pointing out that being nearly blind when waving an acetylene torch or an arc welder around probably wouldn’t end well for your fingers hadn’t softened Amy’s embarrassment at all. Truthfully, with the mask in place, Amy could see _better_ than she did upon first looking into the room. Pausing at the edge of the workshop, Amy hesitated, staring at Taylor, or more accurately at the bulk that she was crouched down next to.

Amy hadn’t expected Taylor to be so receptive to her suggestions, and when she mentioned that Taylor might want to think of dressing up the ‘skeleton’ of Noble in a manner befitting his name, she’d been surprised when the other girl had simply pulled out a fresh sheet of schematic paper and asked her what she had in mind.

Taylor had taken Amy’s suggestions, and she’d _run_ with them, designing the interlocking armor pieces that she was currently fitting to Noble’s form. In the transit mode that Noble was currently in, the armor fit together to frame the mech’s body and obscure the twisted up limbs that it rested on, making it look like a very large, very armored cross between a muscle car and a tank, though the ‘head’ towards the rear of the cockpit that was wearing a ‘Gundam’-style unicorn horned helmet and mask would probably look a bit odd to the casual observer.

The ingenious aspect of the design was in how the armored plates were designed to shift with the mechanics when Taylor switched the mech between its transit and ambulatory (or combat) mode. Ideally, if everything went according to the design specs when it stood up, Noble would do it as a wide, squat knight clad in burnished armor. Part of Amy couldn’t help but imagine how Dean might react to the design, some petty part of her imagining the boy turning so green with envy that he could actually photosynthesize.

Taylor had clearly been at work for hours at this point; many of the pieces that had been scattered around the mech last night were now firmly attached to its growing bulk. Considering the work and Taylor’s pace, Amy frowned thoughtfully as she did the math in her head. At this rate, Taylor would probably have Noble complete… soon. Within a few days at the latest. Amy mulled over what that would mean for these late-night hangouts.

She hesitated to call Taylor a friend. They hadn’t known each other _that_ long, and Amy had blackmailed the other girl into letting her visit, after all. But she’d come to appreciate the girl’s stoic company and the distraction that she offered on the nights-

Startled from her thoughts by the sudden cutting off of the welding torch, Amy shifted her mask up, watching as Taylor leaned back on her heels, flailing one of her arms back toward the toolbox behind her. One step later, Amy grabbed the wrench that Taylor had precariously balanced on the lip of the toolbox, assuming that was what she was after, and moved forward, handing it over smoothly.

Taylor muttered something that might have been a thanks, turning to use the wrench to resecure a bolt on the mech. Amy waited for a few moments, watching as Taylor used her weight to shift the wrench once, then twice, before the young girl froze and turned to glance back at her, lifting up the visor she was wearing and raising an eyebrow.

Taylor didn’t mention that Amy had said that she wouldn’t be back tonight, and Amy didn’t offer that up as a topic of conversation, merely holding up the bag of now lukewarm food. Taylor made a vague gesture at the mech, which Amy had learned indicated that she’d be finishing up shortly, and Amy waved her off, turning and stalking over to the cleanest of the work stations, dropping the bag on it and glancing down at the mess of crumpled paper on the desk.

Picking up one of the balls of paper, Amy carefully unwrapped it, surprised to see that there were scratched out words on the page instead of one of Taylor’s numerous half complete diagrams. Fully unwrapping the ball, Amy read quietly.

~~_Emma, so I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’ve kind of been pretty distant these last few weeks, ever since_ ~~ _-_

Eyes widening in shock, Amy savagely crumpled the letter back into a ball, peeking over her shoulder to make sure that Taylor wasn’t looking before tossing the ball of paper back onto the table and pushing the rest of them off to the side.

Ignoring the _numerous_ questions now burning her in mind, Amy turned her attention to the laptop on Taylor’s desk, tapping one of the keys to clear the screensaver. Staring at the words on the page, Amy tried and failed to focus on them to the point that she didn’t hear Taylor approaching, nearly jumping out of her skin when Taylor dropped the portable arc-welder on the table with a heavy clatter.

Turning, Amy blinked as Taylor unzipped the front of her coveralls, pulling the top down to let her sweat-soaked skin get some cold air. She tied the arms around her waist before moving to pull open the bag of food, reaching in and grabbing a french fry that she stuffed into her mouth, speaking out of the corner of her lips between chews.

“Your design’s all messed up.” Despite the words, Taylor’s tone was coy enough that Amy realized that the girl was probably joking, and she merely rolled her eyes as she responded.

“ _My_ design, Taylor? I gave you a few ideas and drew a very rough sketch on a napkin, and you turned it into an actual design. If anyone messed up here, it was you. But what’s the issue?” Amy watched as Taylor shot her a look out of the corner of her eye before gesturing vaguely in the direction of Noble.

“I was trying to put the thigh armor in place, and none of it lines up right. I ended up getting so frustrated that I just moved onto the legs. I’m not sure what’s up, but I might have to go back and retool it later.” Grumbling faintly, Taylor reached into the bag, pulling out a burger and unwrapping it. Judging by the way the girl’s nose wrinkled, Amy assumed that it was hers, chuckling as Taylor re-wrapped it and set it aside, fishing out Amy’s deep-fried pickles and onion rings as well before finally pulling her own burger free.

Moving over toward the nearby table, Amy pulled the stack of schematics on it closer, paging through the surprisingly well-organized designs until she found the one for the armor plating and pulled it free. Taylor shot her a look, but the allure of her burger seemed to be too strong to convince the younger girl to actually come over and ask her what she was up to, and Amy took this as permission to do what she wanted. She walked over toward the mech, folding the schematic under her arm as she headed around the rear of the device.

It wasn’t hard to find the area that Taylor had tried to work on, the scattered tools and disorganized armor plates around the back of the mech obviously gave it away. Amy took a few moments to consider the plates, checking the notations that Taylor had written on them in black grease-pencil, before moving over to the actual mech itself and examining the marks on the various joints and anchor points.

Frowning, Amy pulled out the schematic, snapping it open and double-checking the design for a few moments. Snorting under her breath, Amy took several steps to the side and peered around the mech at where Taylor had settled on her chair. The other girl alternated between eating her food and scrubbing at one of the many dark greasy patches on her face with a wet cloth.

“Turns out that my design’s not all messed up. Someone just wrote half the directions on the mech _upside-down_.” Amy watched as Taylor perked up, turning to stare at her.

“I thought that it wasn’t _your_ design, Amy?” The girl’s playful, almost snide reply caused Amy to grin as she turned back toward the unfinished work.

“Well, if it’s a good design, then I don’t mind taking credit for it.” Grinning again at Taylor’s scoff, Amy tugged the rag out of one of her pockets and moved to wipe away the grease marks on the frame of the mech’s limbs. She pulled out her own green marker and set to work re-applying the correct notations so that Taylor would know where to affix which plates in what order to make sure that everything slotted together correctly.

Amy’s lips curled into an amused smile when the music started back up, a heavy bass line washing over her as she worked. This time, she didn’t resist the urge to bob her head in time to the music as she bit the marker between her teeth and double-checked her markings against the schematic before moving on.

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A flick of her thumb cut off the current from the torch, and Taylor pulled the tool away from the metal plate. Reaching out a hand to carefully test the join, pressing tentatively at it first, and when it held, she gave it a solid smack with her wrench. The plate remained sturdily in place, so Taylor set her tools down, carefully gripping the plate and shifting it along its tracks, grunting with satisfaction when it moved smoothly like it was supposed to.

Reaching up a hand, Taylor pulled her mask off and dropped it next to the torch, pushing herself to her feet, back arching as she glanced around. Only then did Taylor notice that the music had shifted tonally while she’d been lost in her work, the raucous heavy electronic beats making way for something probably closer to trance music. Shaking her head, Taylor stepped around the mech, opening her mouth to say something witty, at least, that’d been the plan.

Striding around the mech failed to reveal Amy, merely the remnants of the girl’s ‘second dinner’ on the table, and a cursory glance revealed that the laptop was missing as well. Taylor cast her eyes around the space, checking to see where Amy might have ended up.

Truthfully, considering how often the older girl had ended up in the cockpit lately, it was probably the first place that Taylor should have checked, but it did take her several minutes to think of it. Hooking both hands onto the armor plates on the mech’s exterior, Taylor braced her foot and clambered up over the frame, hesitating when she reached the lip of the open cockpit.

Amy had ended up in Taylor’s chair, the more comfortable of the two, with her legs braced against the other chair, chin resting against her chest as she dozed. The laptop rested on Amy’s legs, the tail end of an anime outro playing on it, evidently the source of the softer trance music that was playing over the speakers. Taylor loomed on the edge of the cockpit for several moments before hopping back off the mech and heading over to her worktable.

Fishing around in her backpack, Taylor pulled out her coat — the closest thing she had to a blanket — and she returned to the mech, clambering back up to the edge of the cockpit once more. Reaching out a hand, Taylor reminded herself how careful she needed to be here. The only other time that Amy had dozed off while they were hanging out like this, Taylor had accidentally touched the healer, the tips of her fingers brushing against the other girl’s arms as she’d slept slumped over Taylor’s workstation. The older girl had jerked away with a muted scream.

Considering the nature of Amy’s powers, Taylor could imagine what accidental contact like that might be like, but she doubted it was pleasant. She was very careful when she reached in, gently removing the laptop and then draping her jacket over Amy’s dozing form. Holding her breath, Taylor watched as Amy shifted under the jacket before grasping and tightening it around herself, curling deeper into the chair in her sleep.

Moving as quietly as she could, Taylor disembarked the mech with her laptop in hand and stalked over to her worktable. Setting the laptop down, Taylor pushed herself up to sit fully on the table and reached out to finally silence the video playing on the screen, then turned her attention back to where Noble rested in its berth.

It was nearly done. The armor was almost three-quarters finished at this point, and it was only a matter of a day or two to go through and double-check Noble’s systems, completing any remaining minor calibrations and tweaks and then-

Frowning, Taylor lowered her gaze, staring at her lap. Then everything would change. Lifting her gaze, Taylor studied Noble’s form, easily able to suss out the various improvements and updates that Amy had made to the design. Even beyond the surface layer, the visage, and the armor, Amy had contributed a surprising amount over her visits, beyond merely holding a light for Taylor or playing at welding and riveting. The older girl had suggested tweaks to joints and systems that made it look and move more naturally, streamlined some of the system designs; she’d even helped Taylor calibrate the various sensors and communications systems at one point.

More than that, the girl had been a breath of fresh air in the musty lab. It’d… It’d be strange not having this time with Amy, this chance to just languish and play at being friends while they worked on this project. And beyond that… Taylor frowned, turning her attention to her right, staring silently at the haphazard pile of crumpled up paper. Beyond that, she’d have to actually force herself to finally confront Emma about… everything.

She’d have to finally tell the other girl about what she’d seen, and what she’d… What she’d accomplished, and part of her wondered how this would all change. If it changed at all. Every other attempt that she’d made to get through to Emma had ended in disaster, and despite the magnitude of what she’d accomplished, what she had to offer, Taylor silently wondered if it’d be enough to finally drag Emma back from that-

The computer to her left let out a loud chirp, startling Taylor out of her thoughts. Turning, Taylor pushed back the screen, staring down at her notifications. A message from the Toybox forums. Frowning, Taylor called up her browser, scrolling through the list of bookmarks and using the direct link she’d created to get directly to the forums.

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**Welcome to the Toybox message boards.**  
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 **Private Messages with ChopShop**

**Noble00**

 _Replied On April 3rd, 2011:_

Yeah, well, not exactly. It wasn’t ‘energy shielding’ so much as magnetic field containment with a bit of gravity tweaking. I’m not even sure that they’ll be able to do anything with it, but they seemed keen enough to have it that they were willing to part with a high-end design of their own.

**►ChopShop** _(Technician)_

_Replied On April 3rd, 2011:_

...I shudder to think what you’d have acquired from a Nuclear Tech Tinker, Noble, and what you might actually do with it considering that you’d somehow ended up with radiation poisoning.

That being said? I’m still astounded that CuteLittleAtoms is actually a Nuclear Physicist, she talks like a mommy blog writer. Jesus, that’s terrifying. Now I’m imagining some of the ladies in my neighborhood building something like that in their basement.

Scrolling through her older messages, Taylor checked the newest comment from Chop, blinking at the sheer panic evident in the other tinker’s words.

**►ChopShop** _(Technician)_

_Replied On April 4th, 2011:_

Noble, you there? SOS, I need your help. I was working on a new design with some input from my boss, and I completely destroyed this hyper-sensitive gyroscopic sensor package that he made for me, and he is going to murder me if I can’t find some way to fix it. Tell me that you’ve got something that can help.

Taylor snorted quietly, staring at the message and shaking her head, quickly typing out a response.  


**Noble00**

_Replied On April 4th, 2011:_

I’m always here, Chop; sometimes, I just don’t feel like dealing with your melodrama, you big baby. =P

Seriously though, how the hell did you manage to destroy a gyroscopic sensor? Why were you even working with one? I thought that your specialty was something to do with power sources.

EDIT: I might be able to help, but what’ve you got to offer in exchange?

**►ChopShop** _(Technician)_

_Replied On April 4th, 2011:_

You are a cruel, cruel woman, Noble. Uh. What’d you need? Has your Uhaul girlfriend been poking you for more ease of life upgrades to your love den? I could probably help out there.

Also: Nice try, you know the deal. You tell me your specialty, and I’ll tell you mine.

  
Rolling her eyes, Taylor stared at the screen with muted amusement. This was sort of what the Toybox forum was all about. Trading favors and designs for help, all the while jealously guarding as many of your secrets as you could keep. Shaking her head, Taylor moved over to the nearby table and carefully flipped through her stack of design documents, chewing on her bottom lip as she considered them.

Taylor shifted back over the computer, pulling one of the schematics free as before setting to work typing once more.

**Noble00**

_Replied On April 4th, 2011:_

I’ve got something fairly decent, first-degree source, and it’s advanced enough that you could probably distract your boss from the fact that you blasted his precious creation into smithereens, maybe.

Also, I notice that you didn’t actually tell me what you did to destroy the thing in the first place. Were you building a date or something? I don’t think they really need to stand up for what you’d be using them for, do you?

  
Pausing, Taylor considered the comment for a moment, her lips quirking into a brief smile as she glanced over at the mech that held a sleeping Amy. 

As for compensation? My **_friend_** has asked that I figure out some way of getting power to one of the secret doors to the lab. Apparently, she’s getting tired of having to force the scooby doo-esque hidden bookcase open manually. So, I suppose anything you could think of that would be good at beaming power?

**►ChopShop** _(Technician)_

_Replied On April 4th, 2011:_

Wow. I thought we were friends, Noble, and you act like I couldn’t build a robot that could dance around, never mind just standing up. No, I was testing out a new utility platform, and I lost control of it, and it crashed into a wall. The design was pretty fragile, I guess?

As for the power thing? Beaming power is difficult. But, you could use the cells that I gave you for the RF scanner you set up, you'll need more, but it should work. I’ll send you a design that I made that’ll let you daisy chain them together for efficiency. Seem fair?

  
Rolling her eyes, Taylor scanned the man’s words for a few moments before leaning forward and typing back rapidly. 

**Noble00**

_Replied On April 4th, 2011:_

It’ll work for a down payment, this bit of kit I’m sending is rare, and you’re offering up a tweak for a trade we’ve already done. But I guess I can live with you owing me one. And lucky for you, I build my tech to take a beating. This is ruggedized, so you’ll have to work a lot harder to damage it.

  
Taylor spread the schematic out on the table before her, weighing down each of the corners with a bit of metal, and then rifled through the boxes on the table until she found her wand scanner. Scanning the schematic into her computer, Taylor made sure that the thing was actually legible, before uploading the document to the forum and sent it through the messaging service to Chop.  


**►ChopShop** _(Technician)_

_Replied On April 4th, 2011:_

...Jesus, Noble, what’re you building, a flying tank? This thing is military grade.

  
Taylor didn’t respond immediately, moving to download the schematic that Chop sent her in reply, opening it up and humming as she considered the design thoughtfully. The design of the interconnected power cells was actually ingenious. With the materials on hand, she could probably get one of the doors working. Absently contemplating the design, Taylor tabbed back over to the conversation, moving to snark back at Chop. 

**Noble00**

_Replied On April 4th, 2011:_

I can’t just tell you, Chop. That takes away all the fun of guessing. Anyway, I should probably get going, we’re getting close to sun up here, and I should wake up my friend. Good luck with your patch job.

**►ChopShop** _(Technician)_

_Replied On April 4th, 2011:_

Wait, she’s there tonight? Again?

* * *

  
Ignoring the response, Taylor tapped the keys to shut her laptop off and turned to walk back toward the Mech, crawling up over the segmented armor once more and perching on the edge of the cockpit. She checked her watch, considering the time silently, just after 4:30. If Amy wanted to be home by six, she’d need to be getting up soon. Despite that, Taylor couldn’t quite bring herself to wake the girl up just yet.

Deciding to let the girl doze for another fifteen minutes, Taylor turned and settled against the side of the cockpit, staring out at the workshop. She contemplated the space, with its retro-chic and the affected 50’s facade. Frowning, she tried to imagine Emma here as Amy had been. Holding that welding torch, or laughing as the older girl failed to twist a ratchet even by bracing her entire weight on the damn thing.

Nervously fiddling with the sleeve of her coverall, Taylor did her best not to think about just how out of place Emma would seem here, comparing her fondest memories of Emma with the ones of the last week, and frowning at how the edges didn’t quite match up in her mind. Swallowing nervously, Taylor considered just how different the two girls were, and what might happen if her oldest friend forced her to choose between her and the crotchety sarcastic girl that had become her newest friend.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[And that's another chapter down. Thinks are progressing much quicker over here than in IA, and the mech is nearly finished.
> 
> We get more detail about what Noble will look like and Amy and Taylor's dynamic as they build it. Some interesting foreshadowing was woven in there, if you look close enough, and some hints of what's to come. Also, Amy making a photosynthesis joke, which had me chuckling.
> 
> Beyond that I sort of enjoy the views that we got into Amy and Taylor's heads at this point, it'll frame the next chapter very well when we have some actual action. =] Beyond that there's not a lot to say here, but I'm super looking forward to the reactions going forward, and I'll be active here in the comments to answer their questions.]]


	4. Build - 0.4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[*Flails* It was a bit of a rough weekend, pre-Christmas insanity and I fell down a fanfic hole that left me reading a bunch of stuff over the weekend, so I didn't get much writing done, but it's here. (And I added in an extra 2k words to make up for the delay =P) I'll see you guys at the bottom. Once again thanks to Juff, Fwee, BreezyWheeze, and as always Noelemahc.]]

_April 8th, 2011  
Dallon Residence, Brockton Bay_

 **[Alright, I guess I’m doing this, then. Wish me luck.]** Amy stared at the message, taking a deep breath as she lifted her head and glanced around at the abandoned street around her. Taylor’s worry had practically been palpable, which made the girl’s ongoing silence despite Amy’s numerous follow-up texts over the last day and a half troubling.

Amy tapped the phone to turn off its screen, shoving the device into her pocket. Absently, she glanced up at the building that she’d been standing near, noting how different it was in the daylight. The signage was faded but, with the daylight, it was possible to see that it said something about lobsters. With a shake of her head, Amy made her way down the street, paying attention to the facades of the buildings as she wandered past them.

Absently, Amy turned her attention to the other buildings around her. Taylor hadn’t been willing to confirm it when she had asked the other night, but Amy suspected that one of the buildings around her had been the building that used to house the reactor that Taylor had _misplaced_.

Despite Taylor’s assurances that the other reactor wasn’t much good for producing bombs or even power, Amy was still boggled by Taylor’s lack of concern. Someone had stolen an entire reactor, including its shielding, and for some reason Taylor had seemed relieved instead of sharing Amy’s concern. Considering the specific brand of terrible person that typically called the Bay home, Amy couldn’t imagine anything good coming of this particular theft.

A high pitched ding drew Amy from her thoughts, and she fished out her phone. She’d been hopeful that Taylor had finally responded, but a frown grew across her face when she saw her sister’s name instead.

**[Amy? Are you mad or something?]** Amy stared at the message, tapping on it and realizing how many messages from Victoria she’d absently dismissed without responding over the last day. Quickly scrolling past the numerous questions asking if she was there, Amy saw Victoria’s initial text asking if she wanted to go shopping after school, and she tapped out a response.

**[Sorry, my phone must have died after lunch.]** Amy winced at the little white lie, tapping out another reply before Victoria could. **[I’m at the library now, I’ve got a research paper that I’ve got to work on, another time?]** Turning off her phone without waiting for a reply, Amy fought down her guilt and turned her attention back to the buildings around her.

Finally finding the building that she’d been looking for, Amy did another glance around, assuring herself that she was still alone before ducking down the access path between the two buildings. Emerging from between the two warehouses, Amy peered up and down the wide alley for a few moments, checking the exits at either end of it as she pulled out her phone.

Amy opened the app that Taylor had installed on her phone, tapping in the password that the younger girl had given her, and pressed the button in the app labeled ‘Door.’ Amy moved quickly when she heard the faint, whisper-soft sound of hydraulics activating. She stared at the road as it slowly lowered and silently cursed at how obvious it’d be if anyone came along at either end of the alley. Rather than waiting for it to finish, Amy dashed across the alley as the ramp was only half-down, sliding down the section of the road that was lowering to reveal the darkened tunnel below.

Amy slid off the end, dropping four feet into the darkness, and once her feet hit the ground, she tapped the button to cancel the ramp’s descent. Above her, the ramp shuddered to a stop before smoothly rising back into place, leaving her momentarily lit only by the stark light of her cell phone.

Amy didn’t have to wait long in the dark. After a moment, one of the lights set in the stonework above her flickered to life, filling the tunnel with harsh red light. Farther up the tunnel, another light washed away the darkness, and then another, and Amy let out a sigh of relief. The two of them had spent nearly four hours replacing all the damn things on Wednesday after Taylor had burned them all out hooking up the power, and thankfully they seemed to be holding for now.

Amy stalked up the tunnel, glancing around at it curiously. Judging from the stonework and the design of the tunnel, Amy suspected that it had originally been a storm sewer of some sort before the tinker that had called Taylor’s lab his own before her had appropriated it. Amy also suspected that this was how the tinker had gotten their vehicles in and out of the workshop, which was also how Taylor intended to use the tunnel system.

The sound of metal striking metal drew Amy from her thoughts and she froze, staring up at the distant circle of light at the end of the tunnel. Amy tilted her head to the side, listening as the sound continued, something heavy and metallic crashing with loud gong-like sounds.

With a frown on her face, Amy dipped her hand into the pocket of her coat and pulled out the baton that Taylor had given her. Activating the weapon with a flick of her wrist, Amy momentarily glanced down to assure herself that the end had lit up with that white arc of electricity. Amy dropped into a ready stance and padded up the tunnel as quietly as she could, hesitating once she’d reached the open door and could finally see the source of the noise.

Her mouth went dry as she froze in place on the threshold of the lab, staring at Taylor. The younger girl stood next to Noble, hefting up a nearly two-foot-long wrench in her hands and viciously slamming the tool against the side of the mech’s armor. When the wrench bounced back, Taylor staggered with it, barely taking a moment to recover before lunging forward to attack again. Amy watched, confused and worried. When Taylor shouted something at the mech, bringing the wrench up again and hitting it, Amy was struck by how different the younger girl looked.

Even from this distance, Amy could see that Taylor’s face was coated in make-up, and while she wouldn’t have called the other girl unattractive before - Taylor’s height and obvious physical strength had an appeal all on their own - done up like this, even with her mascara running down her face, one could certainly have called her cute. Taylor’s typically wild hair was styled and fashioned properly. The other girl was even wearing a dress and jacket that played into the ‘cute’ image, and it was strange to see Taylor looking just like any other teenage girl, considering… well, everything.

The pain and hurt were practically radiating off the girl, and Amy stepped forward, uncertain what she’d do when she reached her. As she moved closer, the blows slowed and Taylor’s shoulders started to shake almost uncontrollably. After a particularly vicious strike with the wrench, Taylor left the weapon resting against the mech as she bowed her head, tears visibly falling off the younger girl’s face.

Amy stood there, frozen in place by the tears and the heart wrenching sobs that followed, her heart beating heavily in her chest as she stared at her friend. She’d never been in a position like this with anyone but Vicky, and Vicky was very good at asking for what she needed. She watched as Taylor dropped to her knees a moment later, the wrench held loosely in the younger girl’s hands falling to the ground as her shoulders continued to shake.

Amy stared at the image for a few moments before forcing her feet to move. One step, and then two and then she was suddenly across the workshop before she even realized it. She stood there, staring down at Taylor, wondering if the other girl even knew that she was there. One of her hands reached out, tentatively touching Taylor’s shoulder as she spoke.

“Taylor?” She’d expected Taylor to jump at the words or the touch, but there was no hesitation in the girl. One second she’d been sobbing as she stared at the mech and the next Taylor’s arms were wrapped around her middle, as the younger girl’s face buried itself into her shirt. Amy stared down at Taylor’s kneeling form as she cried brokenly against her stomach, muttering words that made no sense through the tears.

Once the shock of the contact had passed, Amy’s eyes softened, her other hand coming down to gently rest on the top of Taylor’s head. Tentatively running her finger through the girl’s hair, Amy uttered the soft words that she’d so often used to try and soothe Victoria in the wake of Dean’s various screw-ups, gently assuring Taylor that everything would be okay, as if she could promise such a thing.

▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ █ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▃ ▂

Taylor hiccuped softly, perched on the edge of her work station, shoulders hunching as she felt Amy’s gaze burning into the side of her face. Taylor listened to the sound of the water running from where the other girl was working near the sink. At this point, she could practically feel the questions that the other girl was barely restraining the urge to ask, and she reached up, rubbing tiredly at her face.

Realizing her mistake a moment too late, Taylor pulled her hand away, staring at the smeared makeup over her hand and imagining the way that her face had to look, and she let out a sniffle, feeling the back of her eyes starting to burn. The tears didn’t come, and Amy’s voice quickly cut through Taylor's self-pity.

“H-Hey, w-wait, it’s fine, Taylor, don’t start crying again. It’s okay.” The girl’s voice was laced with desperation, and Taylor couldn’t help the wet chuckle that bubbled forth as the other girl started to panic. Amy took her hand, running a wet cloth across the skin to remove the makeup that she’d smeared over the palm.

When Taylor lifted her head, the gentle look in Amy’s eyes was the only thing that kept her from shrugging off the other girl’s hands when they pushed back her hair. Taylor’s cheeks heated, eyes continuing to burn with unshed tears when the other girl give her a pitying look. Embarrassment flooded through her when Amy reached out, moving to carefully clean the make-up off her face with the towel.

Taylor sat still, staring up into Amy’s eyes, taking in the open curiosity visible in the dark orbs, finally finding her words as the older girl continued to clean her face.

“I-” Taylor paused, taking a deep, shuddering breath before she continued. “Her name was… is Emma.”

“Your pilot?” The words were soft, curious, and Taylor laughed bitterly as she stared at where Noble sat glinting in the antique lights as if taunting her. Amy’s movements slowed for a second before she resumed her gentle soft motions, and Taylor continued.

“Emma is-” Taylor swallowed heavily and sighed, before restarting. “She _was_ my best friend growing up. The one I mentioned when I showed you this place… we were… close.” Amy pulled her hands back, staring at her, and Taylor allowed her head to swing forward so that she didn’t have to look at the other girl as she continued.

“My mom- she- ...I lost her. When I was thirteen. I didn’t take it well, but Emma was my rock though, you know? She made things… better.” Taylor fidgeted tiredly with the fabric of her dress, tugging at the pleats of her skirt as she said the bitter words. “She… I think she was the only thing that kept me from retreating into the shell of my life like my dad. She dragged me out, she helped me to recover, to live…” Taylor took a glance at Amy’s pensive features, watching the girl move to put the cloth aside before climbing up to sit on the workstation next to her.

“The summer before my freshman year, my dad snapped out of it enough to realize that he should be doing… something. Acting like a real parent. And he decided that the thing that would fix us was ‘summer camp’.” Taylor couldn’t keep the bitter undertone out of her voice as she turned away from Amy, glancing down at the floor. “He wouldn’t listen when I said I didn’t want to go. He just… bundled me off and sent me off to summer camp, saying ‘it’ll just be like old times’ over and over.” Taylor gritted her teeth.

“Didn’t go well?” Amy’s voice was gentle, and Taylor responded with a bitter laugh.

“I didn’t want to be there, I hated it, and they could tell. And worse than that, I was the freak girl that had gone through a growth spurt so I was giant and gangly and I tripped over everything. I just… suffered through it. Counted the days until I could go fucking home.” Taylor lifted her hands, nervously picking at her nails as she continued. “When I got back… things were different. With Emma.”

“Different?” It was only when Amy spoke, gently nudging her that Taylor finally realized that she’d fallen silent, lost in the bitter memories. Heaving in a deep sigh, Taylor continued.

“Emma was different; she was cold, bitter. She had this _monster_ of a new friend, Sophia, who terrorized everyone around her, and she wouldn’t hang out with me anymore, but… she was still my Emma?” Taylor glanced at Amy, taking in the look of disbelief on the other girl’s face. “She was. She protected me. Sophia likes to hurt people, she terrorizes them, and that girl stares at me sometimes like she wonders how I’d look-” Taylor paused, hesitating. “But Emma protected me, she forced Sophia to stay away, they’d even fought over it... And sometimes…” Taylor glanced down at her hands, continuing nervously.

“She kept telling me that I wasn’t part of her life anymore, but still… Sometimes, I’d convince her to come back to me for a bit. We’d go to the mall and talk, she’d be down, and I’d recognize it, and she’d let me hold her. I’d need help with something, and she’d help me, you know? She still cared even if… even if she didn’t want me in her life anymore. Eventually, though, Sophia would show up, and Emma would… she would light up and be gone again.” Taylor frowned at her hands. “I kept trying, you know, to win her back? She was my best friend, my sister… my f-” Taylor cut herself off with a sigh.

“I had this idea a few months back… I’d been getting through to her a bit more, and she’d been smiling at me, and I thought I had a chance.” Taylor rubbed at her arm silently, feeling that familiar burning coming back to her eyes as she forced herself to continue. “We used to have this tradition that we’d spend the days before our birthdays together, and I figured that I could… surprise her…” Taylor laughed bitterly again, hanging her head and staring at her knees.

“I’d been saving up my allowance and Christmas money for a while… and I bought this necklace, silver with these tiny little blue gems. It was… I thought it was pretty.” Taylor stared at the floor of the lab, forcing herself to talk instead of giving in to the burning at her eyes at this point. “I went over to her house, her parents were out, and I heard her voice laughing around back, so I went around to the side gate, and I opened it and…”

Taylor paused, her voice failing her as the memories assaulted her. She remembered Emma’s delighted laughter and the look on her face and the girl that she’d seen with her, the way that they’d-

“She wasn’t alone,” Taylor said the words quietly, almost bitterly. “Sophia was there, in her costume. She was a god-damned fucking superhero.” Taylor laughed again, lifting a hand and wiping the modest tears from her face. “How could I compete with that, Amy? I just stared at them as they…” Taylor fell silent, her eyes unfocusing as she remembered.

“That’s when you triggered?” The question was gentle, and Taylor glanced at Amy, taking in the sympathy in her eyes. She shrugged a shoulder, nodding as she replied.

“I-I don’t remember what happened after that. I remember screaming, angry voices, and I ran but…” Taylor glanced at Amy, taking in the dawning understanding in the other girl’s eyes. She turned and gestured toward Noble. “After- well, everything, I had this idea. I mean, Sophia was a superhero, but I could… I could _make_ Emma a superhero.” Taylor stared bitterly at the mech, Emma’s harsh words washing through her mind.

“How could she resist that? Emma always wanted to be _great_ , you know? A model, or an actress, or an explorer. She wanted people to adore her, and I could do that for her.” Taylor glanced at Amy, taking in the sympathetic look on her face, feeling her shoulders slump as she finally conceded that folly of her choice. “It was stupid, I know.” Taylor turned back to stare at her hands. “Even then, I knew, I think. I just… It was a hope, even if it was small… Some tiny chance...” Taylor trailed off, speaking sadly.

“What happened? You offered it to her, right? How could she turn that down?” The question from Amy was tentative, and Taylor shrugged her shoulders.

“I couldn’t get the words out,” Taylor said bitterly, staring at Noble. “I… I went to see her, and I barely got three words out before she… she changed. She started yelling…” Taylor’s mind replayed the words, the threats about Sophia’s secret, the things she’d seen, about how Emma was tired of entertaining her foolish obsession, about how pathetic Taylor truly was.

“She… She said that I wasn’t worth her time, and she was tired of pretending that I was anything more than I was. She told me to leave and never come back.” The words were uttered at a whisper, and Taylor was surprised that repeating them didn’t bring a fresh round of tears, though at this point, she felt as if she’d been wrung out like a cloth, and she wondered if she had any tears left.

They sat in silence, Taylor’s thoughts drifting over everything that’d fallen apart around her until Amy finally spoke again.

“Why’d you hit it?” Amy’s question was tentative, and Taylor glanced at her, taking in the other girl’s openly curious look.

“...It made me feel better. It was a reminder of my stupidity, a pointless testament to the fact that I couldn’t see what was right in front of me. A reminder of my silly, stupid dream and all the time that I wasted on it.” Taylor watched as Amy stared at her for a moment, before glancing at Noble and flashing her a smile.

“It’s not that stupid Taylor, it’s… amazing? I’ve never seen tinkertech like this, and you did it by yourself, Taylor. If Emma can’t see that, then she’s a fool. But you shouldn’t let her ruin this for you. You could be a hero without her.” Taylor stared at Amy, shaking her head.

“Amy, I can’t… I didn’t- I’ve got no pilot, and I can’t-” Taylor glanced at Amy, pausing at the look in the older girl’s eyes. When the other girl offered a shrug and tilted her head, Taylor swallowed quietly and glanced between her and the mech, watching as her expression changed.

“Taylor, you worked really hard on this, and we… It doesn’t have to be-” Amy paused, and Taylor stared at her strangely as she took a moment to collect her thoughts. “You went to all this trouble, and it’s done, we could at least… take it for a test drive? Maybe?” The question was tentative, and Taylor felt her brows furrowing as she considered the idea.

It’d never occurred to her that Amy could be a pilot, but the other girl understood the mech almost as well as Taylor did, and she’d… Taylor frowned, wondering if she could really replace Emma like- The thought died in her head as she remembered Emma’s cold eyes, the harsh words, the way that her best friend had looked, starin-

“You’ll have to change,” Taylor spoke quickly, cutting off her thoughts and hopping to her feet. She ignored Amy's eyes on her back, walking over toward a large crate on a nearby table.

“You mean... Change?” The words were spoken worriedly, and Taylor chuckled in response. Opening up the crate on the desk, Taylor pulled out a large garment that looked to be made of blue and black leather and coated in heavy metal plates. Verifying that it was the pilot suit, Taylor held it up.

“This uh, it has to go on, and it’s designed to size down to fit you perfectly, but you’ll be uh… uncomfortable if it does that with you wearing anything beyond your undergarments.” Taylor coughed nervously, before continuing. “It’s uh, necessary for piloting Noble.” Taylor held it out, not quite able to make herself look at Amy.

When the other girl took the garment and stepped away, Taylor let out a relieved sigh, listening as the other girl’s footsteps headed to the other room. Taylor fished out the other bodysuit, glancing over toward the office that Amy had walked into. She took a moment to make sure that the other girl was fully out of sight before smoothly stripping her jacket and dress off.

A quick motion removed her high heeled shoes, followed by her hose. She stepped into her own suit, pulling it up and over her body in one smooth motion. Thankfully the suit did as it was designed to, and when Taylor had slid her arms into it, she felt the entire thing contract, wrapping itself around her frame and sealing along the back, metal plates shifting into place. The gasp of surprise from the other room let Taylor know that Amy’s was probably working as intended, as well.

Fishing two clear glass visors out of the crate, Taylor inspected them carefully before making her way over toward the mech. She set both helmets on the armored frame of the mech and moved to check the damage that she’d done. Taylor reached out a hand, gently dragging her fingers over the faint scratches, the minor hints of her fury that she’d barely managed to inflict on the colossal suit.

Shaking her head, Taylor ducked down and grabbed the wrench from where she’d dropped it, freezing when she heard the sound of metal boots clanking against the concrete floor. Glancing up, Taylor stared at Amy and blushed. The suit was as form-fitting as Taylor’s, though the Pilot suit bore a great deal more metal over its design.

Metal plates spread down over the shoulders and across the back, wrapping around her torso, and the girl’s hands and feet were covered in heavy metal gloves and boots. It looked like armor, but it was actually part of the control system of the mech, and Taylor stared with fascination as Amy came to a stop before her and did a half turn in either direction.

“All good?” the girl asked nervously, and Taylor didn’t bother to respond, reaching over and grasping Amy’s clear helmet off the mech and handing it over. Taylor watched her pull her hair back, tying it off before slipping it on. The older girl jumped when the suit responded, the spine armor extending up over the back of her neck and around her ears, attaching to the mask and causing it to glow with a faint blue hue. “Woah.” The words were soft, and Taylor chuckled.

“Oh. Did you bring the baton?” Taylor stared at Amy as the girl nodded and headed back toward the other room. Rather than waiting for her to return, Taylor turned, sliding her own mask on and smiling when her own armor reached up to accept it, sighing in relief at that glow. Hopping up and onto the armor, Taylor scrabbled over Noble’s frame to the cockpit and dropped in.

Amy was clearly excited for the test drive, as Taylor barely had time to bring the fusion drive fully online before the other girl appeared at the cockpit and stared at her nervously. Reaching out a hand, Taylor accepted the baton and gestured toward the pilot’s seat, watching as the older girl dropped in and settled into the seat. Taylor watched Amy shift around before nodding when the neck armor of the suit let out a metallic hiss, and a loud ‘chunk’ signified the harness clamping down around her and bracing her into the seat.

Amy’s gasp of shock at this was a surprise, though, and Taylor leaned forward, through her holographic displays, to peer down at the other girl.

“Everything alright?” Taylor spoke softly, watching Amy react to her voice, shaking herself out of her stupor.

“I felt- _something_ …” Amy frowned and glanced back at the harness silently.

“With your powers?” Taylor asked, and Amy nodded absently, shaking herself out of it and speaking.

“Ghost of a sensation, like my powers sensed something, but they couldn’t grasp it, it faded quickly.” Amy continued to frown at the harness around her, and Taylor slid back into her chair, moving to consult the diagnostics before her.

“Everything seems to be running correctly. There _is_ some biograde circuitry in the suit, but it’s not organic… really.” Amy glanced at her, and Taylor shrugged. “It’s grown in a vat, it’s required for the way that the direct control interface works, but it’s not alive, never was. Merely leans a bit more toward organic chemistry than typical engineering.” The other girl frowned thoughtfully at her for a few moments before shaking her head and waving Taylor on.

Taylor reached out, and once the diagnostics had completed, she reached out her hands and ran her fingers over the holographic keys before her.

“Alright, I’m bringing the transit mode controls online.” Taylor tapped the controls, watching as the glowing holographic yoke and wheel appeared before Amy, along with the pedals in front of her feet. Taylor watched her inspect them curiously, and she spoke up to explain their function.

“Works like a car, but you can use the yoke to control the orientation of the limbs to raise or lower the car if you need to.” Amy nodded thoughtfully before reaching out. Taylor grinned when the other girl let out a fascinated noise as she ‘grabbed’ the wheel, and the haptics in the gloves actually allowed her to hold it.

The girl shifted the yoke around, causing the mech to shift around in place much like a low rider, earning herself a chuckle from Taylor. Once Amy was familiar with that, the girl tested the pedals, speaking softly.

“Gas?” Amy commented, and Taylor paused, tempted to point out that since the car was technically electrical, that it wasn’t a ‘gas’ pedal so much as- Shaking her head, Taylor let out an affirmative noise, watching her readouts to see the other girl testing out the brake. Taylor’s hands danced over the controls, activating the pilot’s UI elements.

“Alright, you should see a speedometer, a-” Taylor started to list off the elements, pausing when Amy spoke simply.

“Yep.” Blinking, Taylor chuckled, listing off the other elements of the pilot UI like a checklist, grinning as Amy confirmed that they were all present. Once she’d brought everything online, Taylor leaned forward and peered down at Amy, taking in her expectant expression.

“Ready?” Taylor asked softly, and when Amy nodded, she hopped up, clambering out of the cockpit and moving around to the rear of the mech. It took barely a minute to remove the power leads, leaving the workshop momentarily wreathed in darkness until Amy activated Noble’s powerful headlights.

Clambering back up into the mech, Taylor dropped back into her seat, settling back and feeling her own harness clamp down onto her, sealing her into her seat. Reaching out, Taylor’s hands danced over the controls, preparing to release the throttle and directional control to Amy, pausing as a dark smirk spread over her face.

“You do know how to drive, right?” Taylor laughed at Amy’s affronted look and activated the controls, watching the cockpit above them slide shut and seal with a hiss. Below her, Amy tested the pedals, letting out an amused gasp as the mech immediately responded, pulling out of the parking spot.

Taylor was surprised with the ease that Amy had guiding the bulky mech down into the large tunnel, and then she gasped as she was jerked back into her seat when Amy hit the gas and they rocketed down the tunnel. Amy eased off after a moment, and the wicked smirk that Taylor could see reflected in Amy’s visor let her know that that was probably intentional.

“So, what’s the plan?” Amy’s voice came back at her, and Taylor froze, staring at the readouts before her thoughtfully. Scrabbling around for a few moments, Taylor didn’t respond until Amy came to a stop near the exit and turned back to look at her.

“I uh-” Taylor stared, a blush on her cheeks as she glanced through the omni-directional display of the cockpit at the damp dimly lit walls around them. “I didn’t exactly have much of a plan beyond ‘Get Emma into the Mech’?” Taylor admitted nervously, letting out a sigh. “Usually Emma sort of came up with all the plans.” Amy stared back at her silently for a moment before rolling her eyes and turning back to her controls.

“Find us someplace open, and we’ll run Noble through the paces, test out the various functions.” Taylor blinked at the command, but she quickly remembered an abandoned warehouse near here with a large storage lot that could work. Taylor turned her attention to the controls, one hand moving to activate the exit ramp, while the other called up the map of the city and plotted out a path for Amy to follow that would lead them where they needed to go.

Taylor didn’t even have to explain; the moment that Amy’s HUD updated to show the directions, the girl’s foot was on the pedal and Noble launched itself up and off the ramp, onto the alley, skidding down the rain-soaked streets as it followed the path that Taylor had laid out for it. Taylor watched Amy’s progress with one eye, smiling when she noticed the grin on Amy’s face as she manhandled the vehicle, moving to shut the passage in their wake.

▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ █ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▃ ▂

  
Amy’s gaze drifted from the glowing path on the road before her to the translucent hologram that she could somehow hold in her hands. She moved her thumbs, brow furrowing in amazement as she felt her thumbs dragging over the ‘handles’. Tilting her head back, fascinated wonder flooded through her as she stared at the open space that her hands were holding, that her feet were resting on.

Her attention returned to the road, and Amy marveled at the design of the cockpit, the sensation of floating above the street as the buildings she’d walked past earlier slid smoothly along on either side of her. She’d never had such clear lines of sight in a car before, and it was… interesting and strange. She was used to seeing the vehicle around her, and there was none of that here. She had to constantly keep in mind just how _large_ Noble’s frame was, to make sure that she didn’t move too far out of her lane and take a street light or a mailbox. Amy glanced back at Taylor, considering whether to mention that concern when the younger girl’s voice came down at her from within the hurricane of glowing lights that surrounded her.

“We’re nearly there; it’s just through here.” Amy opted to keep her comments to herself, glancing back to the path that she was following. It wasn’t hard to pick out where they were going, even without the directions. Up ahead, the buildings on the left continued along the road, dilapidated factories and warehouses standing opposite a wide-open lot. Figuring that this was where they were headed, Amy turned the wheel without bothering to follow the directions to the ‘entrance’, driving up and over the sidewalk and into the cracked and decaying lot.

When she reached the middle of the lot, Amy gently removed her foot from the pedal and glanced up at Taylor, surprised when the entire chair shifted to allow her to turn to stare up at the younger girl. It hadn’t done that when she’d been driving. Taylor’s attention was on the 1glowing displays around her, fingers dancing over a holographic keyboard before her, and it took the younger girl a few moments to come back to herself enough to return the look.

“Oh!” Her lips curled into a smirk at the flash of color that spread over Taylor’s cheeks when the younger girl realized that she’d been too distracted to notice her audience. “Right. We’re here. Okay. I’m gonna do the first shift slowly, so just… uh. Hang out?” Amy’s forehead furrowed at the comment, blinking when Taylor started tapping away once more. Turning forward, she rapidly realized what Taylor meant when the controls she’d been using blinked out of sight, and the mech around them began to shudder.

Surprise and worry flickered through Amy as she felt movement and motion, the frame of the mech clearly lifting. Outside, the camera feeds showed nothing but the perspective rising upwards, which was a bit off-putting, though less off-putting than when her chair shifted as well. The seat lowered out from under her, leaving her secured only by the harness as the seat itself folded back and away. She hung there, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the idea of attempting to control the mech at a dangle, when another of those translucent holograms formed below her. The newest addition to the cockpit clearly showed the ground beneath the mech.

Amy’s harness lowered her, and she stared in wonder when her boots stopped as they touched the ‘ground’, allowing her to stand on it. Moving her feet, she tested the ground, the harness moving with her, leaving Amy feeling as if she was standing on solid ground. She stood there, staring up at the fading sunlight in the sky and smiled at the clear, unobstructed view before her. Eventually, she glanced over her shoulder at Taylor, seeing the fascinated smirk on the younger girl’s lips, and she couldn’t help returning it with a smile.

“Ready?” The comment was curious, and Amy nodded, turning back to face forward, watching as more of those holograms formed around her, spreading over her form in a wire-frame that she recognized as Noble’s combat mode. She stared at the glowing lines in confusion for a second before lifting a hand. Amy grinned in awe when the arm lifted as well, following her movements.

“Is it-” Amy glanced back at Taylor, blinking when Taylor nodded smoothly, and she turned back to the hand. She moved the arm around, feeling the haptics in her suit reacting to keep her from moving too quickly. The range of motion was almost-

Amy paused, frowning in confusion as she felt the haptics let her know that she couldn’t move her arm in that way. Considering the motion, and the designs, she tried rolling her shoulder again, watching the arm do the same, and when it didn’t work, Amy rolled her shoulders several times to try and work out the odd kink.

“Is something wrong?” Taylor’s voice drifted down over her, and Amy shifted the arm again, smiling when it moved properly, much more like it should have from the start. Shaking her head, she responded absently as she tested out the motion of her other arm.

“No, probably just a minor thing with the shifting. It seems to be working now.” Taylor didn’t respond, and Amy moved to do some range of motion stretches. Testing out each arm, and then her back, Taylor’s voice finally drifted over toward her when she did some leg stretches to see how far the mech’s body could twist and move.

“What are you doing?” The curiosity was clear in Taylor’s voice, and Amy chuckled as she responded without looking back.

“Testing response time and the range of motion on the joints.” There was a lingering moment of silence from Taylor, surprise clear in her tone when she finally did.

“Er, right. I’ll test out the other systems while you do that.” Amy nodded absently, pushing Noble back to its standing position. Taking a deep breath, she took a tentative step forward, letting out a sigh of relief when the whole thing didn’t topple over, brow furrowing at the faint shudder of movement she felt through the frame of the mech each time she set her foot down.

“Bringing the sensor suite online.” Taylor’s voice washed over her, and she moved a bit quicker, taking quick short steps as she crossed the lot of the factory and approached the building. Amy suspected that there was some sort of parallax effect going on, considering how small the two-story building looked to her perspective.

When she got close enough, Amy was surprised to see a holographic representation of the building appear at the periphery of her ‘ground,’ and she came to a stop, glancing between it and the wall that had been approaching on the cameras.

Amy watched in fascination when the building itself shimmered briefly, and then a blue window appeared hovering over it with information within.

**[Scanning…]**

**[Sturgeonhead Shipping, 107 Clearfront Avenue, Defunct.**

**Materials Present: Stone {Brick/Cement}, Wood, Metal {Steel/Iron/Copper}**

**Occupants: 0**

**Structural Stability: Poor]**

Amy glanced at the building, blinking as she watched glowing lines crisscross the building, some thick, some very thin. She followed the lines with her eyes, turning to follow them when they all bunched back up and then traveled under the concrete below her feet toward the street, realizing when they joined up with a pole outside the lot that she was seeing the power lines.

“Communication suite coming online.” Taylor’s voice drifted toward her and Amy paused, watching as another window appeared above the building showing a floor plan and a listing of news articles related to the building. Muted surprise flickered through her at the vaguely familiar image of a carnival going on in the lot she was standing in, though her attention was rapidly drawn to the pillars of glowing light suddenly visible over the city itself.

Amy turned to stare out at the glowing pillars, focusing on the closest one and taking a step back when it shimmered as she stared, and then a window appeared next to it.

**[Armed Robbery, 29th, and Park.**

**Victim: Happy Days Convenience Store [Arthur Chen]**

**Perpetrator(s): Four Adult Males, Armed. Clothing and Tattoos Indicate ABB Affiliation.**

**Current Status: Four officers on site, criminals pinned down, awaiting back up.]**

“It’s the police scanner program that I made.” Taylor’s coming from behind her, and Amy glanced at the other girl, curiously. “It listens in to the scanners, collates the data, and provides information.” There was a melodic ping, and she turned back toward the view, watching as the information flashed once before a new line scrolled across the bottom.

**[Update: Officer injury reported, Ambulance en route.]**

Amy frowned, considering the message for a few seconds before glancing back at Taylor.

“How far away is that?” She watched Taylor’s eyes as they widened, and she glanced down at the displays before her.

“Like five miles, but Amy-” Amy shook her head and turned to glance at the nearby road.

“What’s the fastest that we can swap between modes?” she questioned curiously, shifting from foot to foot.

“Noble can swap modes in about a second and a half.” Amy hummed in thought. The average person had a horizontal hang time of about three-quarters of a second, Noble was twice the size, and a bit of a normal person with fairly similar body shape and output force… Amy shifted back onto her foot and grinned quietly.

“Get ready.” Amy crouched low, chuckling at Taylor’s sudden sharp inhale, and then she dashed forward. “Three.” She moved, pushing forward and up and dashing across the lot, watching the ground blur past beneath her feet as she ran. “Two.” The road was approaching, and she shifted her angle so that she was running a bit closer to parallel to it instead of approaching it directly. “One…” Amy commented as neared the edge of the lot, surprise lacing her voice when she kicked off, and the pavement under her feet cracked at the pressure that she’d been using.

“Go.” She grinned as the transition happened, the mech leaving the ground and the display around her blinking out as Noble changed modes. Things were much, much quicker this time, her chair came up, and the controls for the Transit mode appeared within a second. Grinning, Amy grabbed them, pulling back on the yoke to bring the wheels to the ground to ‘catch’ them, though even with that, she winced at the sound of Noble’s undercarriage scraping along the pavement before it recovered.

“I’ll have to work on that,” Amy muttered under her breath, putting her foot on the pedal as they drove along. She could practically feel Taylor’s stare burning into the back of her head at the damage that she’d done to Noble, but the girl didn’t say anything, and she focused on following the directions that were appearing before her.

“You know that we don’t have any weapons, right?” Taylor’s worried tone surprised her, but Amy shrugged softly as she turned the wheel, skidding around an abandoned corner and fish-tailing down another street. When she didn’t respond, Taylor continued behind her. “I mean we’ve got the taser, but that’s not really… I was kind of waiting for Emma to decide what she wanted in terms of weapons before-”

“Taylor, we’re almost twenty feet tall and bulletproof, we’ll be fine.” Amy made sure to keep her chiding gentle, chuckling when Taylor’s teeth clicked together at the implication. Thankfully the other girl didn’t offer any more arguments, and it was barely five minutes later that they skidded around the corner at the end of the street with the face-off.

Amy was surprised when she didn’t have to ask Taylor to do the change, the controls vanishing almost as soon as they came to a stop. Amy stared at the battle, watching one of the police officers as they tended to the wounded, the remaining officers keeping the criminals pinned down as they spoke into their walkie talkies.

Seeing the amount of blood at play, Amy didn’t hesitate, moving the instant that the wireframe mech shimmered into being around her. She could see the moment that the police realized what was happening, the two on the ground behind the car staring up at her with wide eyes as she approached, the two with their guns out following almost immediately after.

Amy could see the mixture of fear and awe on the faces of the police, and she took a second to briefly nod at them as she strode past the cars, toward the gunfire. The gangster on the opposite side of the street reacted a lot more loudly to her presence, shouting in Mandarin as they opened fire.

Amy didn’t hesitate, quickly stepping between the officers and the gunfire, watching the first bullet when it struck Noble and ricocheted off to strike a nearby street light. She shifted her form, scrabbling to remember the lessons that she’d sat in on as her Aunt and Uncle taught Victoria how to do this without hurting bystanders. She tilted her chest and kept her body as concave as possible to keep the ricochets aimed back toward the people firing.

“We _are_ bulletproof, right?” The thought only occurred to Amy after she’d taken the first three or four strikes, but despite it, she kept herself still, as the gangsters emptied their clips into her.

“The armor is holding fine.” Taylor’s voice was absent, laced with amusement. Amy couldn’t contain her delighted chuckle, but she did keep her gaze on the men, watching as they stared in mixed horror and confusion between her and their emptied weapons.

“Can I speak to them?” Amy glanced back at Taylor, watching the other girl typing away.

“Yeah, but it won’t be your voice. Noble has his own voice, so whatever you say will be converted into that.” Amy raised an eyebrow, but she wasn’t able to ask what Taylor meant as a tiny box appeared on her screen, showing a flat audio waveform and the words **‘Voice Changer Active’.**

Amy stood still for a moment, watching as the gangster stared back at her, seemingly at a loss for what to do. She had seen Victoria in this position before as well, and she opted to take another page from her sister's book; she straightened her posture and took two steps forward before speaking.

“Right then-” Amy cut off, staring in confusion at Taylor. She’d moved her lips, but her voice hadn’t come out. Instead, she’d heard herself speaking with a deep masculine voice. Taylor’s eyebrows wiggled as she smirked, and realizing that she was in the middle of something, Amy turned forward again, staring down at the gangsters. “Right then, clearly, those don’t work on me, so how about you hand them over.”

Amy reached out, holding out an open hand. She was surprised when three of the four gangsters tossed their guns into her waiting hand with no further arguments, holding their hands up in clear surrender. That was a lot easier then she’d been-

One of the four gangsters screamed something rather offensive at her in Cantonese before lunging to the side as if to run. Amy moved, lashing out one of her hands. She felt the haptics straining against her motion, but even then, she was quick enough that one of Noble’s massive hands wrapped around the man’s arm.

A tiny voice in the back of Amy’s head reminded her just how fragile human bones were, and she moderated her grip to keep from snapping the man’s humerus like a popsicle stick, tugging him back toward the others as he continued to scream viciously at her Cantonese.

“Listen, while I can’t argue with you about my mother, it’s still impolite to say those kinds of things about her.” The man’s face paled at her comments, and then she moved the hand holding the rifles up toward him, chuckling when he sullenly dropped his assault rifle in it. Amy turned Noble’s head back toward the other three and held the hand out again.

“Any other guns?” She stared at them and watched as two of the gangsters pulled out pistols and dropped them in her hand. Nodding simply, she pulled back, rising to her full height while dragging the mouthy gangster along with her.

When she turned, Amy was surprised to see how close the police had gotten, and she hesitated for a moment before offering one of the officers the man in her hand, grinning when he wasn’t quite sure what to do with him. Amy’s other hand came around and offered the guns to a second officer, who reacted much more quickly and removed them from her grip.

“Er- Thanks?” The officer’s words were laced with bemusement and Amy responded with a simple nod, watching the first officer recover from his shock. When he moved to handcuff the man in her hand, she released him. She watched the officer move to handcuff the other three before reading them their rights, turning back to the second officer when he spoke. “Uh… New to the area, then?” The clear confusion in the man’s tone made her chuckle, though the deep masculine chuckle that everyone else heard gave Amy pause. She glanced at that green box on her screen, realizing that she was still broadcasting.

“Yes.” Amy glanced at the man, watching as he became increasingly uncomfortable under her stare, unable to keep the amused smile off of her face.

“Do you… have a name?” It took the man nearly a minute to work up the nerve to ask the question, and Amy glanced back at Taylor, watching the other girl shrug before turning to stare at the man quietly.

“Noble,” she said, blinking when Taylor let out a hiss behind her. The man stared at her in confusion, but before he could respond, he was cut off by his walkie talkie crackling to life, a long string of words pouring out.

Amy turned to glance over the city, watching four more spears of colored light crashing out of the sky. She listened to Taylor tapping away at the keyboard behind her as she spoke, her voice laced with clear worry.

“Another four gang-related crimes not too far away. Two more robberies, a drive-by, and an armored truck robbery.” Amy glanced off into the distance for a moment before glancing back down at the officer, who was holding the shoulder mic to his walkie talkie and speaking into it. Amy stared at him before speaking and taking a step away.

“I need to go.” The words came out in that voice again, and she watched the officer open his mouth to argue before hesitating when another stream of static-laced words came to him. Behind her, Taylor’s voice spoke.

“There are two officers down at the armored car robbery.” Taylor’s voice was tinged with worry, and Amy watched the officer nod in her direction before turning back to the gangster. Amy turned toward the armored car robbery and set off at a dash. She listened to Taylor typing before her and did the count down again.

This time, at least she didn’t drag the undercarriage along the street, but she did fishtail quite a bit. Silently admitting that she still needed to work on that move, Amy drove down the street, her eyes settling on the reflection of Taylor in her visor. A frown grew across Amy's face, matching the one that bloomed on the younger girl's face as she considered the police reports now constantly appearing across her screens in time with the spears of light that, even now, continued to emerge along the horizon.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[IT LIVES.
> 
> So the mech is walking around, breaking up crimes. I'm so proud. *Wipes an imaginary tear from my eye*
> 
> More seriously though, we get some more exposition on Taylor's pre-trigger life, as well as how she triggered. We get some resolution on the Emma front, and then the girls get to take out a mech finally. We see Noble at action and how Amy's intended to control him along with some of his more neat features and Amy manages to save a police officer without having to patch him up like magic healing spackle. We also get some hints about what's to come. We also get to see Amy have a brief human moment which is always fun.
> 
> As always, the next chapter I put out will be an IA one, so expect an update here sometime next week. The next chapter will be fun. I can promise you all that. Looking forward to your reactions and feedback, and I'll be around in the comments as you need me.]]


	5. Build - 0.5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[So, I ended up double updating In Absentia, and then I took two weeks off for Christmas and whatnot. So in exchange, I give you nerds a 9k update now. You'll also get a second update soonish, probably sometime next week that'll be a normal length. =] As always, I'd like to thank Noelemahc, Juff, and Fwee for their hard work making this chapter a bit easier for you folks to read. I'll save the rest of the comments and get the story started. See you all in the post chapter notes!]]

_April 8th, 2011  
Docks, Brockton Bay_

  
  
Surprise filtered through Taylor as she stared at the glowing amber barrier visible through the front of the cockpit. The plane of brilliant light had sprung up between Noble and the armored truck, and more importantly, the armed gangsters that were sheltering within or around the van parked right up against it. Considering that that shield was an upgrade that she’d salvaged from the cars that had eventually become the mech she was riding in, she was merely thankful that the damn thing had activated when Amy fed power into it.  
  
Watching the spray of bullets impacting the shield with nothing but faint ‘pings’ and splashes of light as it swept back and forth across the shield, Taylor quickly checked her system readouts, letting out a relieved breath as she considered the power levels. Noble’s reactor remained stable, the power output steady. The capacitor system feeding the shield wasn’t showing any signs of stress. For the moment, despite the steel barrage currently being aimed at them, the shield unit upgrade seemed to be going fine. Though, she idly began to wonder just how-  
  
“You said thirty seconds, right?” Amy’s strained voice startled her out of her thoughts, and Taylor glanced back at her readouts, checking the status on Noble’s first capacitor.  
  
 _‘43% of power reserve remaining.’_ Quickly doing the math in her head, Taylor leaned forward, even though Amy couldn’t actually see her, and spoke tentatively.  
  
“Uh, 13… ish seconds now.” A momentary pang of regret washed through Taylor when she saw the tension ratcheting up in Amy’s form at the bad news. Crouched down with one knee on the holographic ‘ground’ beneath her, the older girl had one of her arms held outwards, keeping the glowing barrier affixed to Noble’s wrist low to the ground. This odd pose was necessary to keep the shield low enough to fully cover the motley collection of police officers and paramedics that Noble was currently crouched in the midst of.  
  
“Right… Do you have any idea what he’s firing at us?” Amy’s voice continued, and Taylor shifted back in her seat, blinking in confusion. Who was- Shaking out of her stupor, and resisting the urge to smack her head, she glanced up at the flashing muzzle visible within the body of the van ahead of them. She moved, fingers dancing over the keys before her as she tapped into the video feeds around them. On the glowing screens at the front of the cockpit, a window formed and zoomed in on the source of the fire.  
  
Most of the gangsters were equipped with pistols, submachine guns, or assault rifles, but someone had apparently welded an entire belt-fed machine gun onto the frame of the van. One of the larger gangsters was manning the weapon, a long belt of ammunition being fed into it from a box. Despite the long belt feeding into the weapon, the gangster wasn’t firing it indiscriminately, and Taylor watched with muted confusion as the muzzle flared up briefly again, momentarily producing another spray of burning amber impacts across the shield.  
  
 _‘How the hell do I-’_ Her confusion cut off when the system pinged, showing that Amy had activated the second capacitor to keep the shield up. All to keep the bullets from riddling the people below them. Quickly calling up a browser, Taylor did an image search, typing in a few frantic keywords about the weapon. Thankfully, ‘Belt-fed, machine gun, mounted in truck’ gave her something that looked close within about eight seconds.  
  
“Right! Found it.” Pulling the name of the weapon out of the page, Taylor called up the article on Wikipedia and started speaking as she read. “It’s uh, Army Surplus probably. It can fire yadda yadda rounds per minute, and uh…” Taylor’s eyes skimmed down the article until she found what she was looking for. “Alright, the box probably contains two to three hundred rounds, which is why they’re not spraying liberally.” Amy nodded, doing some absent muttering under her breath before she moved.  
  
The girl kept herself, and by extension Noble, low to the ground and brought her free arm around behind the barrier. There was the distinctive two-tone beep that signified that Amy had activated the external comms, and that deep baritone voice spoke, drawing the attention of the officers below them.  
  
“I need one of your truncheons.” The words were quick, short, and determined. Amy was keeping her attention on the van ahead of them, and she probably couldn’t see the mixture of confusion and shock on the faces of the men and women below. Taylor reached out, tapping a key on her console, causing the same two-tone beep to emerge from her own station.  
  
“Your club things, or batons. The, uh, nightsticks.” Taylor’s lips moved, but the familiar voice of the mech around them emerged. When Amy glanced up at her, Taylor smirked, tapping the key once more and returning control of the voice to the other girl. Two of the men broke out of their confusion and tugged their weapons-free, offering them up. Noble grasped one of the long black sticks with a muttered thanks and then glanced up, watching the man in the truck.  
  
When the surge of gunfire faded and the man began to hastily unhook the top of the weapon, reaching down to grab a fresh belt from near his feet, Amy sprang into motion. Her arm came up, lobbing the baton Noble was holding upwards with a long, overarching throw, and the stick flew through the air in a tall, wide arc. Everyone around the truck turned to glance at the flying weapon almost involuntarily.  
  
They recovered quickly, turning their eyes and their weapons back toward the clump of police they’d left in their wake, but it was too late. Amy was already in motion.  
  
Taylor winced as the girl ran at full speed, listening as the pavement under Noble's feet cracked and crunched ominously. Amy didn’t even seem to be paying attention to the damage she was causing to the infrastructure, too focused on crossing the distance between herself and the gangsters. Noble’s legs were nearly ten feet long, and his stride was nearly eight feet at an amble. When running, her mech could clear 13 feet in a single step.  
  
The gangsters barely had time to bring their weapons back down to bear before Amy was suddenly in their midst. The older girl wasn’t playing around, and Taylor watched in fascinated silence as she didn’t stop to speak, to threaten. Once she was in range, Amy hip-checked the van, causing it to flip over onto its side, leaving the weapon within uselessly pointed at the sky.  
  
Amy ignored the groaning of the gangster within the truck and turned toward the nearest standing one. Taylor’s heart froze in her chest when one of the more distant gangsters shouted something and raised his assault rifle, pointing the weapon in the direction of the still-recovering officers, but Amy was once more already in motion.  
  
One of Noble’s hands lashed out, grabbing one of the rear doors of the armored truck. Amy moved with barely a grunt of effort, hand clenching around the glowing image of the door. Noble followed the older girl’s movements, smoothly ripping the metal off its mountings with a screech of abused steel. Door in hand, the older girl, twisted her torso, throwing the shorn away metal at the shouting gangster.  
  
For a single moment, Taylor was terrified that the man was about to end up as a greasy red smear on the pavement, but the door hit the ground with a heavy screech well before it reached the man, bouncing along the pavement and bleeding off its momentum before it slammed into him and sent him flying away, his weapon clattering uselessly to the ground.  
  
Amy didn’t stop there though, reaching out once more and ripping the other door off its hinges and holding it up threateningly as she rounded on the rest of the gangsters. Thankfully for Taylor’s pounding heart, the rest of the men milling around decided that discretion was the better part of valor and immediately dropped their weapons and raised their hands.  
  
Taylor’s gaze turned from the view outside the cockpit back to Amy. The older girl was breathing hard, her entire body shaking just a bit as she held the door aloft. Taylor watched, fascinated, as her pilot got her breathing under control, and slowly lowered the arm holding the door and dropped it onto the pavement.  
  
She took in the way Amy shifted in place, checking on the surrendered gangsters and the recovering police. She watched the older girl’s head turning to where the paramedics were working on the injured officers, and even at this angle, Taylor could see the conflicted expression on the other girl’s face. It took her a moment to realize what was bothering Amy, and she quickly checked her readouts, speaking as she studied the screen to her right.  
  
“More ambulances will be here in roughly eight minutes, and all of the officers’ injuries are listed as non-critical.” Amy glanced over her shoulder, and Taylor did her best to smile when she was pinned in place by that penetrating, thoughtful gaze. When the eyes lingered on her, she was tempted to say something, to act like she’d just been thinking out loud. But the words wouldn’t come out, and she merely stared at the display in front of her, cheeks burning faintly as the other girl openly stared back up at her. Thankfully she was saved from the awkward stare-off when someone started screaming profanities at them in what she assumed was Mandarin.  
  
The heavy-set bald gangster that had been manning the machine gun jerked up out of the darkness within the van with the heavy weapon held in his hands. He was screaming… _something_ at them, and he lifted the weapon up, preparing to fire. Amy reacted before Taylor could open her mouth, or do anything, snatching the weapon out of the gangster’s hands like he was a toddler with a spatula.  
  
The gangster’s eyes widened when Amy used Noble’s hands to take the weapon and bent the heavy rifle around and twisted it through itself to create a mockery of a pretzel. The other girl didn’t even offer the gangster a comment, merely dropping the destroyed weapon back into the frame of the ruined truck before turning to make sure that no one else had gotten any smart ideas about reclaiming their weapons during the fracas.  
  
The silence that reigned in the wake of this demonstration lasted until the officers finally got close enough to begin arresting people. Taylor suspected that Amy looming over them with Noble’s arms crossed over his chest had a lot to do with how cooperative all the gangsters were being.  
  
“Noble, right?” One of the officers called up to Amy from where he was standing nearby, and the older girl turned, moving Noble’s frame to fully face him as she replied.  
  
“Yes, I suppose that the other officers spread the word?” Smiling a touch at the clear note of amusement in Amy’s voice now that she’d calmed down, Taylor let Amy focus on interacting with the police as she turned her attention back to the glowing screens and information feeds around her.  
  
After double-checking that the power feeds were all still operating properly, and the capacitors that they’d expended were refilling as they should, Taylor called up Noble’s police scanner, seeing what’d popped up around the city while they’d been occupied here.  
  
The crime spree continued unabated, though thankfully, other parahumans were getting involved to curtail the violence before it spilled over into downtown. Assault and Battery were breaking up robberies to the north. Amy’s aunt, uncle, and one of her cousins were in the process of dismantling some sort of armored truck that a bunch of the ABB had been using to rip ATMs out of the wall to the west, and Purity and her group of fascists were mopping up the remains of a group of men that had been attempting to kidnap half a dozen pretty girls from a mall downtown.  
  
Other groups of police were scattered around the southern part of the city, breaking up crimes ranging from blatant arson and vandalism perpetrated by stupid kids to muggings and armed robberies. Taylor frowned as she stared at marker after marker appearing on the map and shook her head.  
  
“What’s up?” Amy’s normal voice startled her from her thoughts, and she shifted her gaze back down to where Amy stood. When she raised an eyebrow, the other girl casually gestured to the screens around her. “Something’s bugging you, what is it?” Blinking, Taylor turned her attention back to the screens, letting out a sigh as she spoke.  
  
“It’s just-” She paused, glancing back at Amy, who smoothly nodded for her to continue. “I tested the police scanner a few times as I was developing it, and this is an insane amount of crime for like… not even midnight on a Friday night?” The other girl’s eyes lingered on her for a few moments before she turned back forward, glancing at the screens around her.  
  
“Show me.” Amy’s voice was low and firm, and Taylor moved quickly to obey. One hand danced over the keys, and a screen spread over the display before the pilot seat, showing off an aerial view of the city. She quickly fed in a display of the nearly 22 active crimes in just this part of the city. “Is that all of them?” The other girl spoke, and Taylor felt her lips curling down into a frown.  
  
“All the active ones.” Taylor’s fingers moved over the keys, and nearly a dozen more flags appeared within the map as well, showing all the crime scenes that had been declared safe. Amy stared at the screen for several moments before speaking.  
  
“Show them to me in the order they happened.” Wondering why that hadn’t occurred to her, Taylor obeyed, fingers moving to clear the display, and then setting up a program that would show them by the time they were reported. She didn’t need to wait for Amy to explain, as soon as the crimes started showing up in a large almost ring-shape that then expanded outwards, she realized what was bothering her.  
  
“They’re spreading outwards, almost as if-” Amy trailed off, and Taylor picked up the thread, turning back to her own displays.  
  
“As if they’re luring us, or I guess the police and the other heroes, away from something.” Taylor was already doing a quick mockup of the waves that the crimes had appeared in, trying to figure out where they were trying to draw them away from.  
  
“What’s in the middle there?” The words were concerned, and Taylor frowned, staring at the readouts before her in confusion.  
  
“Nothing. Empty warehouses, dock fronts. It’s not even near where we set up. Near as I can tell, there’s just garbage real estate out there.” Taylor frowned, calling up another screen. “Not even any Merchants sightings around there recently. It’s just empty abandoned buildings.” Amy let out a thoughtful noise before turning and starting to move Noble toward the street.  
  
“Can’t hurt to check it out.” Surprised at Amy’s response, the casual acceptance in her tone, Taylor nodded, moving to tap along the glowing keys before her as Amy set off at a jog.  
  
Taylor glanced at Amy worriedly when the girl didn’t comment, or even smile when Noble completed the change perfectly, leaving the scene without spinning out or scraping its body in the slightest. Taylor studied the reflection of the somber expression on Amy’s visor for a moment before turning back to her screens, frowning as she resumed checking for any businesses in the area that could be worth all this trouble.  
  
“So, we’ve got the shield, any other surprises?” Drawn out of her research by Amy’s voice, Taylor flicked her gaze down at where Amy was manhandling the driving controls below her. She glanced around at the console before her. _Any other surpr-_  
  
“Oh!” Taylor scrambled around, finding the Taser where she’d stuck it beside her in the chair. She held it up, earning an amused sound from Amy, who didn’t take her gaze off the road. “Er-Right. The Taser, that I gave you? It’s an upgrade too.” The older girl let out a thoughtful hum, glancing back when they came to a red light, and Taylor twisted the device, causing it to shrink instead of grow.  
  
“Same power usage as the shield, focuses that electricity down through the arms into the hands. Taser Hands.” Taylor slotted the device into the side of her chair and turned back, watching as a tiny blue icon appeared on Amy’s HUD next to the shield and the voice changer.  
  
“It works the same way as the rest of your features, you just focus on it, and it’ll draw forth power from the capacitor. It’s a lot less efficient than the shield though; one punch output, you’ll get one strike with it per capacitor you use, so be careful.” Taylor stared down at Amy, biting her lip as the girl nodded.  
  
She studied the tension along the other girl’s jaw and let out a sigh. Going out into battle like this without any actual weapons was just asking for trouble. She contemplated opening her mouth, suggesting that they leave this to the actual heroes, but the determined expression on Amy’s face silenced her concerns, and she slumped back against the chair, focusing on the power readouts before her.  
  
Hopefully, everything would be okay.  
  
  


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Amy glanced upwards when the familiar ping sounded, watching as a dark violet pillar of light slammed into the ground in the distance ahead of them. Taylor’s sharp inhale from behind her wasn’t exactly promising. Keeping her focus on the road, her foot pushed down on the glowing accelerator, weaving past a delivery truck and zooming down the street as quickly as the mech could go.  
  
“I’m guessing that purple isn’t a good color?” Amy called back, unsettled by the lingering silence that followed her question.  
  
“Purple means that it’s a Parahuman-related crime. Police are supposed to keep their distance.” The words were uttered with a shaking voice, and Amy’s jaw clenched as she shifted her grip, continuing to push the mech as fast as it would go as she rounded another corner, and thankfully found the street ahead devoid of other traffic. An ongoing lack of input sounds or movement from behind her began to worry her, and she spoke up.  
  
“Is it Lung?” The question seemed to snap Taylor out of whatever stupor she’d fallen into, and Amy’s tense shoulders relaxed a touch at the familiar clicking and faint pings from the consoles behind her, letting her know that the other girl was back at work.  
  
“Y-Yeah. Someone called in a tip on the Police hotline. Lung’s apparently going to attack someone? He’s got a small team with him, and he’s hunting for them. They hung up before the police could respond. They’ve routed the call to the PRT, and they’re setting up some sort of cordon behind us to keep him contained as best they can.” The tremor in the younger girl’s voice faded as she spoke, and Amy adjusted the console around her, shifting Noble’s legs as she used the brake to skid around a corner, accelerating out of the turn as quickly as she could.  
  
“Do we know who they’re sending?” Amy asked quietly, and there was a faint note of dissatisfaction from behind her.  
  
“The PRT system is much more secure, so I don't have an in on their communications, sadly. But uh, I’ll keep Noble’s sensors open to see if anyone is coming?” Amy didn’t respond, nodding and hoping that Taylor could see it.  
  
Amy’s eyes were on the buildings around them, frowning as they headed out into the older, less well planned out portions of the city. Some of the roads between the decrepit warehouses around them were so narrow that normal cars wouldn’t be able to pass between them, never mind Noble’s impressive bulk in this shape.  
  
Amy was worriedly nibbling at her bottom lip, struggling to remember the layout of this part of the docks from the days that her parents had drilled the rough outline of the city into her and Victoria’s heads, back when they’d expected them both to join the active roster. She was still trying to remember if Cullough was the next street intersection, or if it was two sets of lights away when glowing lights suddenly appeared on her HUD upwards and to the left.  
  
A sharp intake of breath from Taylor startled Amy, and she unconsciously pulled her foot off the accelerator, skidding to a halt on the empty street as the glowing markers both flashed a warning red. Without even thinking about it, Amy’s hands danced out quickly, deactivating all the external lights and leaving the street shrouded in darkness once more.  
  
The external display flicked over after a moment to a low light camera, everything becoming washed out in shades of white and green. Amy’s attention remained firmly locked on the rooftops at the approaching markers.  
  
“How fast are they moving?” Amy commented absently, narrowing her eyes as she tracked the movement of the markers.  
  
“F-Faster than people should be able to, but not fast enough to be in actual vehic-” The tinker’s voice was soft, whispering as if she were afraid that someone might hear. Her words trailed off suddenly when she saw an explosion of fire along the roofline, and a figure was launched through the air away from it, arcing toward the street. “A-Amy!” Even before the other girl had spoken, Amy had been reaching toward the controls.  
  
Before she could bring Noble back online though, the plummeting shape reacted, twisting their body in mid-air. Suddenly, long shadowy limbs erupted from the fluttering jacket that they were wearing, and the limbs smashed into the pavement, catching the falling figure before they could hit the ground, keeping them held aloft.  
  
The cape recovered with surprising grace, their form shifting on those limbs, clearly used to their body hanging from the center of their back like this. The long pointed nose of the ‘Plague Doctor’ mask that the cape wore turned to glance back at them for a long moment before the attention shifted up to the nearby rooftops.  
  
Turning to follow their gaze, Amy flinched at the sight of Lung’s massive bestial form looming there, eyes glowing with barely contained fire as he loosed a thunderous roar and launched himself off the roof, crashing into the pavement near the suspended cape.  
  
The cape, though, had apparently been expecting this and their body suddenly rocketed to the side, dodging the spray of molten pavement that Lung’s massive hand launched at them, and then they were off, the long jagged shadowy legs carrying them across the street into one of the narrow alleys.  
  
Lung barely gave them a moment’s head start before his powerful body shot off after them. He was running nearly on all fours, roaring as he chased the figure down the nearby alley. Amy reached out quickly, bringing the systems back online. Hands settling on the control column, her gaze turned to the narrow alley, and she grit her teeth.  
  
“Taylor, I need a map. Where are they headed?” The younger girl responded quickly, and a screen appeared on her HUD, showing a road map of the area around them. Conveniently, indicators showing Lung and the plague doctor cape’s positions tracked them as they moved. She considered the map for several moments, frowning in concern at the speed and the path that the pair were taking through the convoluted and difficult to navigate alleys for several moments before she set her foot back on the accelerator.  
  
“We’ll need to get ahead of them,” Amy spoke, more to herself then Taylor, pushing down hard on the accelerator and getting the car moving. There was another long series of pings, and then a third icon appeared a fair distance from the other two. Amy didn’t have a chance to ask what the third marker was because Taylor’s voice washed over her as she brought Noble around the corner at the next intersection.  
  
“Something is coming toward us, or… probably them, actually. It’s small, and it’s moving fast.” Taylor’s voice was thoughtful, and Amy frowned, momentarily taking her eyes off the empty street before her to study the way that the marker was rapidly moving toward them. It had to be a cape, though the question of _who_ it might be was concerning.  
  
“How fast? Is it flying?” Amy asked the question without even stopping to consider whether she was hoping that it was one of her family members, or dreading the possibility.  
  
“It could be flying low, or it could be a vehicle. As for speed, I’d say… Recklessly fast.” Amy’s stomach dropped at that, and she pushed her foot harder down on the accelerator, whipping around another corner and glancing at the map as the icons continued to approach each other.  
  
Amy was still nearly a quarter-mile away when the third dot met up with the other two, the group had come to a stop a fair distance closer to the waterfront than the road they were currently following. Once again, the choked nature of the streets forced Amy to take the long way around.  
  
“Other people are arriving. Or… something. Whatever they are, they’re big.” Taylor’s worry-tinged voice drifted down from behind her, and Amy screeched around another corner, keeping her turns short and sharp, eyes flicking between the increasingly busy map on her right and its indicators and the roads ahead of her.  
  
When they rounded the final street corner and skidded to a halt next to a familiar silver motorcycle, Amy’s breath exploded outwards in a sigh of relief. It wasn’t Victoria, thankfully. At the end of the street ahead of them, dominating the trashed courtyard of a derelict factory, Lung stood, his hulking form facing off with the owner of the bike, Armsmaster.  
  
Amy’s eyes flicked around the courtyard, looking for the other figures, frowning at the seemingly empty lot.  
  
“They’re moving,” Taylor’s voice called, and Amy turned her attention around, finally catching sight of the indicators on her HUD. They were on the rooftops. Amy looked upwards in time to catch something monstrous and almost vaguely reptilian moving in the shadows above. Several other similarly monstrous shapes barely visible in the darkness headed in the opposite direction of the confrontation ahead of them. “I think they’re retreating,” Taylor commented faintly from behind her as Amy turned her attention back to the face-off.  
  
Surprisingly, Lung still hadn’t begun the trivial process of peeling Armsmaster out of his armor like it was made of tissue paper, despite being nearly half again as tall as the man at this point and clearly well into the monstrous stages of his transformation. He was nearly eleven feet tall, covered in rippling scales and bearing jagged teeth and claws by now. It was almost ludicrous to Amy that Armsmaster had been able to slow him down, never mind halting his pursuit.  
  
Putting her foot back on the pedals, Amy brought Noble closer to the fight, eyes narrowing at the odd way that Lung’s entire body was tense and swaying ominously where he stood looming over Armsmaster. The bestial man was shaking just a bit, and Amy frowned, glancing around.  
  
“Look at his spear.” Taylor’s whispered comment startled Amy, and she turned her attention to the weapon, blinking at the head which had folded back to reveal a long pointed needle head nearly three feet in length on its own. Amy swallowed nervously at the idea of being stabbed with something like that. She watched as Armsmaster loomed at a distance, keeping close and holding the odd weapon ready, watching the way that Lung swayed and shifted. It was almost like he-  
  
“He’s drugged him,” Amy spoke without even thinking, glancing back at Taylor and watching the younger girl’s eyes widen in realization. Taylor glanced between her and the distant Lung for several moments before bending down over her controls once more and typing quickly.  
  
“I-Is that possible?” Amy bit her lip at the audible shock in Taylor’s voice, turning back toward the face-off. It certainly seemed to be possible, if the way that Lung was starting to shrink was anything to go by. Amy watched the draconic man’s eyes as they started to blink sluggishly, and she frowned.  
  
Amy had heard every story of every encounter that her family had had with the brute, and this was… wrong, it was… almost too easy. Amy glanced around, noticing the lack of any gangsters nearby, tapping her fingers on the glowing hologram before her, easing her foot off the accelerator.  
  
“Is there anyo-” Amy started when a shimmer of color suddenly appeared at Lung’s back. A squat man in black clothing and an ornate mask suddenly appeared in the man’s wake and stabbed a serrated blade into the man’s kidney, causing Lung to loose a murderous roar, his form swelling back upwards once more.  
  
Amy watched as the man behind Lung caught a sudden backhanded strike to the side of the head, flinching when his body made a sickening thud as it hit the pavement before collapsing into ash or dust. Movement from Armsmaster drew her attention, the armored man lunging forward with his weapon, clearly intent on administering another dose of whatever he’d used on Lung. Unfortunately, the dragon was apparently ready this time, catching the weapon and ripping it out of Armsmaster’s hand, then viciously kicking the tinker away, planting him into the crumbling wall of the factory.  
  
Amy’s breath caught in her throat when Lung loosed a roar and took two steps towards the downed hero, the weapon starting to glow red with heat around his clenched claws. Before she even realized what she was doing, Amy’s feet were on the accelerator, her hands on the wheel, and the car had surged forward past the hero's bike.  
  
“Amy-” Taylor’s voice drifted down toward her, but Amy ignored her for the moment, pushing the pedal down as far as it could go and feeling the mech roar beneath her hands as she accelerated toward the advancing figure.  
  
Unfortunately, Lung wasn’t as distracted with his downed opponent as Amy had hoped, and the sound of their approach tipped him off. The man spun toward them, glowing weapon in hand. Amusingly enough, she did get the odd sight of the dragon’s eyes widening almost comically before he tossed himself bodily to the side, allowing them to rocket past him. Amy slammed on the brakes, turning the car in a wide screeching spin out until the car had come to a stop facing Lung once more.  
  
“Transform,” Amy instructed hastily as Lung’s prone form rolled over, and the man pushed himself to his feet. Amy felt the chair shifting under her, and the rumbling of the mech transforming, and she was oddly inspired by the way that Lung hesitated when he caught sight of her.  
  
It was strange, Amy considered as her feet touched the glowing pavement below her, and the wireframe grew up around her, to see Lung from this perspective. He was nearly twelve feet tall at this point, and despite that, he barely came up past her navel. This was so far into his state that most of the Protectorate would be opting to contain or chase him off, and yet when the monster loosed a roar and lunged, Amy was confronted with the mental image of a furious toddler throwing itself at her.  
  
One hand lashed out, grasping one of the flaming clawed hands as it arced toward her, and she stopped it cold. She watched the confusion and fury blooming of the inhuman face below her, and then another hand lashed out, and her other hand came up, catching it, pinning the man in place. Amy stared down at Lung’s inhuman features, his scaly maw spreading wide as he loosed a resounding, almost thunderous roar before slamming his serpentine head into her body.  
  
The haptics in her suit barely reacted, and Amy watched as Lung staggered back in pain, grasping his bleeding face. Amy glanced over her shoulder at Taylor, watching as the girl’s tense form started to relax as she stared at the readouts around her. Clearly, that hadn’t done any noticeable damage, at least not to Noble. She turned back forwards just in time to catch the dragon’s sudden forward charge.  
  
It was almost instinct, memories washing over her as her uncle had explained how to deal with an attack like this. One of Noble’s arms came up, smacking Lung’s slashing arm aside, and the other slammed into the elbow before sliding along his arm. Grabbing Lung’s shoulder, Amy dragged the man down so that Amy could viciously slam Noble’s knee into his chest, the strike lifting the villain up off the ground and sending him crashing down on his back several feet away.  
  
Amy fell back, arms coming up in a ready stance before realizing what she was doing and blushing as she stared down at Lung’s groaning and slowly responding form. Cheeks burning, she glanced at the voice changer, waiting until it activated to speak to the slowly recovering cape.  
  
“There’s no way that you’ll be able to take me on withou-” Amy hesitated, the haptics of her suit pressing against her back. She frowned, spinning in place and glancing over her shoulder. She momentarily caught a flicker of black fabric before the entire suit rocked forward as a bloom of orange and red light erupted behind her. The haptics forced Amy to stagger forward several steps until she could recover, and she turned to glance around.  
  
“What-” she started, but Taylor was already speaking behind her, the sounds of the girl’s hands dancing over her keys audible.  
  
“Looks like a conventional explosive? A grenade of some sort. It was outside the armor plates, so there’s nothing but cosmetic damage, but if he can get one of those into a joint-” Taylor’s worried comment was cut off when Amy felt another sudden light pressure on one of her arms from the haptics and then another explosion sent her staggering back a few steps as another flash of light erupted to her left.  
  
Gritting her teeth, Amy growled when that familiar sensation came again, this time in the middle of her back, and she acted. Launching herself backward, Amy crashed Noble’s back into the crumbling wall of the building that she’d staggered near, pulling away to turn and stare at the broken body crushed into the crumbling wall.  
  
It was the same cape that had stabbed Lung… Oni Lee. Gritting her teeth, she backed up several steps when the crushed cape coughed up blood and opened his hand, dropping the grenade that he’d been holding and allowing it to roll toward her. Lifting one hand as if to shield herself from the detonation, Amy let out a snarl when something crashed into her- Noble’s side.  
  
Instead of another hit and run though, this was Lung, apparently recovered, trying his luck. The monstrous cape had slammed his form against her and was doing his damndest to push her off balance. She briefly considered asking Taylor if Noble had the ability to right itself if it fell, before realizing that if she could stand up, Noble probably could as well. But deciding that she didn’t want to test this, Amy hooked one of her hands under the half-dragon’s armpit and simply peeled him off her form and tossed him away.  
  
Testing out a theory, Amy took a step toward where Lung had fallen when she’d thrown him, and as she’d expected that whisper-thin touch came again, on her left shoulder. Despite being ready this time, her backhanded strike at the place where she’d expected the cape to be met nothing but empty air. When another explosion sent Amy staggering away from Lung, she answered with a muttered curse.  
  
“Son of a fucking-” Amy growled and spun, glancing around at the nearby rooftops. This was beginning to piss her off. Lung, nearly fourteen feet and looking much more like a serpent than man at this point, was staggering back to his feet, his glowing orange eyes locked hatefully on her. This was bad. If he continued to grow like this, eventually he’d get big enough to go through her armor, with or without his minion’s grenades.  
  
Amy watched the dragon swaying, knowing what was about to happen. Oni Lee would come, try to get her off balance, and then Lung would strike, try to get her on her back so that he could strike at her with impunity. Amy desperately tried to remember the lessons she’d sat through, that her uncle and her trainers had taught her. Her mind scrabbled at distant memories of lessons on how to intercept or disrupt a grapple. But all she could remember was Victoria prattling on about how she’d-  
  
Realization shot through Amy, and she felt her heart starting to beat. Victoria. She knew how her sister would handle this. _‘Eat the first attack, hit back twice as hard.’_ She felt the pressure, and she ignored the temptation to swing, to swipe and dislodge the nuisance, gritting her teeth and ignoring the warning alarms, moving with the explosion as it knocked her forward, toward Lung.  
  
Amy was ready when Lung launched himself at her, and she reached out, clamping Noble’s metallic hands about his monstrous, almost feline face. She could see that she’d caught the other cape off guard as she stared down in the huge gaping maw filled with jagged, metallic teeth. He recovered quickly, neck twisting back on itself as he tried to push his body forward, attempting to bring his claws to bear. Doing her best to keep the dragon at arm’s reach, Amy’s gaze shifted to the lightning bolt in her HUD.  
  
The icon flashed twice before it locked in, and one of the tiny markers that showed off her available power levels flared up before dimming as crackling blue-white energy danced down over Amy’s glowing arms, surging into the monstrous form trapped in her- Noble’s hands.  
  
Her grip was savage, fingers digging into the metallic scales around Lung’s molten-metal-colored eyes, fighting to maintain her grip as the serpentine body writhed and flailed in her hands. A long, agonized scream emerged from the gaping, x-shaped maw as arcs of current visible jumping between the pointed teeth all the way down his throat. When the weapon was expended, Amy watched Lung’s form slump down, his entire body panting, smoke drifting off his scales.  
  
A knee strike sent her opponent flying back several feet, and Amy took several steps forward. She didn’t wait for the nuisance to strike this time, spinning around and activating her wrist shield after the first two steps and watching satisfied when the shield visibly rippled before the clone appeared perched on it. There was a moment of poignant silence, and she let the clone realize what had happened before she twisted and slammed the shield into the concrete, crushing the figure into a fine red smear. Rounding on Lung, she closed the distance between her and his prone form in two steps, activating her external voice as she went.  
  
“Now, I know it’s tradition to let the bad guys have a chance to come in peacefully, give 'em the chance to get the upper hand, but...” Amy kept her shield up, blocking herself from half the buildings around her. Crouching down, she grasped Lung’s serpentine neck in Noble’s free hand, dragging him half up off the ground as she continued. “Since you’ve started to _piss_ me off, you get the abbreviated version. Come down here and agree to surrender and leave, or I cook your boss’s brain.” Amy didn’t wait for a response, eyes locked on the remaining time on her shield.  
  
Activating her final capacitor, Amy dumped it’s full charge into the gang leader's brain, doing her best to tune out the savage, inhuman screams of pain that came from the creature. Turning her attention to the rest of the courtyard, she let out a sigh of relief when Oni Lee appeared a short distance away mere moments before her shield flickered out.  
  
Amy stood holding the smoking parahuman in her hand for several moments, staring Oni Lee down. Turning her attention back to Lung when she felt movement, she was shocked when she noticed that he’d actually begun to shrink. Releasing him, Amy took several steps back, watching warily watching Oni Lee approaching Lung’s prone form.  
  
Amy briefly entertained the idea of attacking, putting them both down before they could do any more harm, but her eyes drifted to where Armsmaster still lay nearby, planted into a nearby wall, and she wondered how long it would take Oni Lee to go after the easier target if she reneged on the deal.  
  
In the end, the choice was taken out of her hands. Oni Lee dragged the now nine-foot-tall Lung up off the ground, hooking one scale-covered arm around his shoulders and quickly leading the other cape away, neither of the two men even glancing back in Amy's direction.  
  
“D-Did we win?” Taylor’s shell-shocked voice drifted down behind her, and Amy blinked in confusion, turning to glance around the wrecked courtyard, frowning in confusion.  
  
...Did they?  
  
  


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Amy stared down at where Armsmaster lay, still halfway planted into the crumbling brick wall, a nervous feeling creeping up along the back of her neck. She had to fight the urge to reach out with one of her feet and nudge the insensate cape to make sure that he was actually still alive.  
  
“Are you sure-” she cut off when, instead of responding, Taylor merely activated a pair of screens on her HUD. One showed a zoomed-in image of Armsmaster’s crumpled form, making it clear that he was still breathing. The second screen showed a simple readout of his current physical status. Frowning, Amy glanced at the glaring red image to her right and the number of errors visible on it. “That’s, uh, an awful lot of ‘Nulls’ there, Taylor.” Amy glanced over her shoulder when the younger girl muttered something under her breath, blinking at the faint hints of irritation.  
  
“He’s shielded his suit in some fashion. Our scanners can’t penetrate beyond the surface layer.” Taylor repeated when she caught the other girl’s eye, though judging by the faint hint of color on the younger girl’s cheeks, Amy assumed that she’d probably said something a bit less polite the first time around. Rather than point out that they were also probably shielded in Noble, she turned forward once more and walked toward Armsmaster. When she reached the wall, Amy crouched low, carefully inspecting the man’s prone form.  
  
“Armsmaster.” That deep masculine voice emerged, sounding a lot sterner then Amy felt, but the tinker didn’t respond immediately. Amy lifted one of Noble’s hands, reaching forward with a finger. Behind her, Taylor inhaled sharply, but the other girl didn’t offer up any voiced protest, so she reached forward and carefully tapped the tinker on the chest, repeating his name.  
  
This, at least, prompted a reaction. Armsmaster’s body jerked upwards, and he sucked in a huge breath. Amy shifted back and out of the way as the tinker surged forward, scrabbling his way to his feet and dodged away from her, quickly flicking his gaze around the courtyard looking for threats.  
  
“Lung!” the man shouted as he rounded on them, his voice loud, a mixture of fury and embarrassment. Amy could tell the moment that Armsmaster realized that they weren’t Lung, the man’s quick light movements staggering to a halt as she slowly pushed back up to her- to Noble’s full height. The man stared, or at least she assumed that he was staring. If nothing else, the man’s visor was at least turned in her direction, the lower portion of his face slack.  
  
Impressively, he did recover quickly, his expression smoothing away, lips pressing into a thin line as he stared up at her. Amy had to resist the urge to fidget, to squirm under that gaze, oddly being left with the impression that her father had caught her sneaking out in the middle of the night. The sensation passed when Amy reminded herself that the man before her could barely reach the lower portions of her hips.  
  
They stood there in silence for several moments, and Amy was left with the uncomfortable impression that Armsmaster was undressing her with his eyes. It took her a moment to realize the absurdity of the thought, and she admitted that if anyone was being undressed, it was probably Noble, and not her. A tiny frown curled at her lips, and Amy set her hands on her hips, speaking with a coy, almost mocking tone.  
  
“It’s usually customary to invite one out for a drink or a meal before you start removing their armor plates with your eyes, Armsmaster.” She wasn’t sure if it was the tone that she spoke with, the words, or even the pose that she’d assumed, but she’d managed to actually earn herself a second reaction from the unflappable Armsmaster in less than ten minutes. The older man taking two steps back, jaw-dropping just a portion.  
  
Sadly, he was just as quick to recover, and the older cape’s jaw snapped shut, his face pulled down into a tiny angry frown. Amy assumed that behind that mask, he was shooting her what amounted to a very dirty look, but at least this prompted him to begin speaking.  
  
“If you must know, I was trying to figure out just how many laws that suit breaks.” The words were cool, almost condescending, and Amy opened her mouth to speak. Before she could utter a word, there was a two-toned ding from behind her, and suddenly, Noble’s voice was washing out without Amy moving her lips. Glancing over her shoulder, Amy was shocked to see that Taylor was leaning forward, speaking with an affronted look on her face.  
  
“I think you’ll be surprised to find that I was especially careful designing and outfitting this mech, and it follows every tinker law on the books. More than that, unless you can find some way to prove that it’s actually a public hazard, the Vigilante code of ‘97 states that-” Amy watched amused as Taylor rapidly started to drop into an irritated rant, though the girl was cut off before she could build up an actual head of steam.  
  
“I’m sure that that won’t be necessary.” The clear, casual feminine voice caused Taylor to trail off, and Amy turned her attention back to the courtyard around them. A second, much simpler motorcycle had appeared to the left of Armamaster’s bike, and a tall woman was in the process of smoothly dismounting it. Shocked that she’d missed the sound of it approaching, Amy watched Miss Militia adjust the scarf wrapped around her face for a moment before approaching their standoff.  
  
“Miss Militia-” Armsmaster’s voice was low, laced with a hint of warning, and the woman waved him off as she approached.  
  
“Dragon sent us your suit feeds when you were taken out. Before they arrived here and saved you, they-” The woman paused, glancing up at them. “It’s Noble, right?”  
  
“Yes. Noble, and you’re… Miss Militia?” Taking back control of the voice, Amy spoke, doing her best to lace her voice with a faint hint of confusion while nodding. Or, at least, she did the closest that Noble could get to a nod without an articulated neck, bowing the upper part of the mech’s body minutely. Miss Militia nodded, her eyebrows flicking upward in surprise or amusement.  
  
“Yes. Miss Militia.” The woman turned back to Armsmaster, resuming her earlier line of thought without a hiccup. “Before they arrived here, and saved you, Noble broke up several standoffs between the ABB and the police to the north of here. From what I’m told, they used an impressive amount of restraint and demonstrated particular care for the infrastructure around them. For the moment, we’ve been instructed to allow them to operate in peace.”  
  
Confusion washed through Amy at the words, and she watched the older woman turning toward them. Miss Militia took several steps forward, and feeling oddly rude looming over her like this, Amy moved to lower herself back down, resting one knee on the ground and moving into a crouch. This time the eyes widening was clearly in surprise, and Amy couldn’t hold back the deep rich chuckle that washed out of her in Noble’s voice.  
  
“The BBPD asked that we express their thanks for your timely intervention,” The flag-adorned woman commented smoothly, and Amy felt her cheeks burning faintly. Before she realized what she was doing, one of her hands had come up to scratch at the back of her neck, and the sound of metal hitting the cockpit lightly stopped her in her tracks.  
  
“It’s uh…” Amy trailed off before she said the phrase ‘no big,’ mentally asking herself what was wrong with her before pressing on. “I was in the right place at the right time; I’m just glad that I could help.” That felt a lot better to her, though, the faint hints of amusement in Miss Militia’s eyes letting her know that she probably hadn’t been as smooth as she was hoping.  
  
“Still, it’s a good thing you were out there tonight.” The woman paused, crossing her arms, and Amy had to resist the urge to fidget once more at the bald appraisal in those dark eyes as they glanced over the mech’s form. “You do good work, Noble. Have you considered joining up?” Frowning, she glanced back at Taylor, taking in the other girl’s shocked look before turning her attention back to the other cape.  
  
“I’ve considered it. I’m not sure if I’m ready to commit to something like that just yet. Despite its showing, my suit isn’t actually finished just yet, and more than that, it’s… It’s something of a lifetime commitment. Not something that one rushes into.” Amy let out a faint sigh of relief when the older woman’s eyes softened in understanding and turned over when Armsmaster stepped forward.  
  
“What happened to Lung?” The words were low, laced with impatience and concern. Amy glanced over at Miss Militia. The older woman’s lack of concern startled her until she remembered her words when she’d arrived. The PRT had already seen what happened, probably. Turning back to Armsmaster, she spoke.  
  
“When I arrived, he’d just tossed you into the wall, and you’d gone down hard. I intervened to keep him from peeling you out of your armor like an orange. Even at ten to twelve feet, he’s still not much of an obstacle to me. Unfortunately his… teleporter?” Amy glanced over at Miss Militia, hesitating deliberately.  
  
“Oni Lee,” the older woman offered freely, and Amy quickly continued, as if she was picking up her mental thread.  
  
“Right, Oni Lee arrived, or at least started interacting. Neither of them was doing much damage to my suit, but it was only a matter of time before Lung got large enough that even _I’d_ have trouble with him, or the teleporter opted to go for the easier, unconscious target.” Amy hesitated here, turning Noble’s torso toward Armsmaster to make it clear who she was talking about. Sadly, there was no reaction this time, and Amy pressed on. “I opted to take a hard hit to get control of Lung. I used some of my tech to hurt him enough to convince his friend to give up the fight, and then talked them both into backing off.”  
  
“You should have-” Armsmaster started, but Miss Militia spoke once more, smoothly cutting him off.  
  
“Is your suit damaged? We could offer you the use of our facilities to repair it.” Miss Militia was clearly doing her best to be friendly, inviting. Amy chuckled softly, and the woman continued quickly as if guessing at her concerns. “We’d be happy to provide you with a temporary costume to conceal your identity while you did the repairs. No strings attached, of course.” Shaking her head, even though the action wouldn’t translate through Noble, Amy responded quickly.  
  
“I’ve got a workshop in the city.” She watched Miss Militia’s eyebrows as they flitted upwards briefly. Silently cursing when she realized that she’d given something away, Amy pressed on. “I’ll be able to handle the repairs, ma’am. But thank you.” Amy glanced around, watching a spear of light forming off in the distance. Shifting back, Amy pushed slowly back to her feet. “Actually, I should be getting on. But it was nice meeting you both.”  
  
“Actually-” Armsmaster tried for a third time, tension visible in his form, and Amy had to resist the urge to actually laugh when Miss Militia smoothly cut him off again.  
  
“Of course, Noble. It was nice to meet you as well.” Amy couldn’t tell with the mask, but she got the distinct impression that the older woman was just as amused as she was. Offering an almost playful salute, Amy straightened back up. She took several steps back, moving around the two capes before setting off at a light jog.  
  
This time, the transformation was perfect, and Amy accelerated away, not indulging the temptation to glance back and see whether or not she’d managed to make Armsmaster gape for a third time that night.  
  
  


▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ █ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▃ ▂ ****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[And, we get to see Noble in a Parahuman battle. =]
> 
> And Amy shows off her skills. A lot of interesting stuff was introduced this chapter, and most of it will become more important as we go on, but I don't want to over discuss it and give away things, so I'll let you guys pick apart what you see and offer up my comments on what you guys think is most important. That being said, I'd like to point out that despite the surface level veneer, this isn't so much a stations of canon thing, despite... everything. =] There's stuff going on the background that will make itself known in the next arc, and I think you guys are all in for a fun ride.
> 
> My personal favorite parts of this chapter were uh, Amy's interaction with MM and Armsy at the end, and more so Amy's projected persona when inside Noble. Amy's able to be a bit more outspoken, a bit more friendly when there's two and a halve tonnes of heavily armored steel between her and her opponents. I also enjoy how much she mentally asks herself 'what would Victoria do in a situation like this' despite, at least onstensibly, believing that Victoria isn't necessarily the best sort of close combat fighter?
> 
> Another aspect I enjoyed is how... reluctant Amy was whenever injuries came up. You could clearly tell that she was dreading the time she'd come across a truly bad injury that would force her to abandon the ruse and get out to help them, and it was so overt that even Taylor noticed it.
> 
> As I said above, since I gave IA the double update, you guys will be getting another one and that'll probably the be the final update of the first arc of HHI. Once that's out there'll be another chapter in IA before it's first arc ends as well. Both stories will have a single interlude before we jump into Arcs 2 with both feet, so look forward to shenanigans!
> 
> Anyway, beyond that, I look forward to your reactions. I shall be eagerly here in the comments waiting them out. =] ]]


	6. Build - 0.6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[So, it turns out that there was a lot that needed to be done here, so enjoy a second beefy update. Now that this is out, you lovelies can all expect an update to In Absentia in relatively short order, at least hopefully. If you've been with us since the beginning, you might notice an odd thing about Taylor's dad and phones, and that was due to an issue where I forgot that there's no cell phone issue in the Hebert Residence in this AU. The relevant passage was ninja-update a while ago, but uh, just you know... That's not a thing here, for reasons that will make sense in context. Anyway, on with the story. As always, I'd like to thank Noelemahc, Juff, and Fwee for their hard work making this chapter a bit easier for you folks to read. I'll save the rest of the comments and get the story started. See you all in the post chapter notes!]]

_April 8th, 2011_   
_Docks, Brockton Bay_

  
  
When the heavy lead of the cable in her hands slid past the socket it was intended to fit in for the fifth time, Taylor bit back an inventive curse that she’d once heard her father use to describe their old minivan and its beat-up, rusted-out engine. Lifting one hand and wiping the sweat from her brow, Taylor winced when she felt something thick and sticky smearing over her brow as her hands passed.  
  
Gritting her teeth, Taylor temporarily ignored the oil that she’d almost certainly smeared over her forehead and resecured her grip on the cable. She squeezed herself into the space between her chair and the side of the cockpit as tightly as she could, twisted her arm well past the point that it started complaining painfully, and _pushed._ Thankfully, this time she felt the lead hit paydirt, and the whole thing slid smoothly into the back of her chair assembly with a mechanical thunk that Taylor could feel all the way up to her now painfully twinging shoulder.  
  
Rather than immediately pulling herself free, Taylor pushed past the discomfort and grasped the cabling to give it a firm jerk, breathing out a sigh of relief when it remained firmly in place. After extricating herself, Taylor stood up straighter, carefully rolling her arm, she moved around the edge of her chair and dropped into it heavily, carefully testing her shoulder while staring around at the dimly lit cockpit.  
  
Disbelief and confusion washed through her as she stared at the pilot seat and the darkened panels around her. If it wasn’t for the dim glow visible past the lip of the open cockpit letting her know that Amy was lurking out there, Taylor could have believed that it was all some sort of twisted dream, that it hadn’t happened. Even with that reassurance, part of her still couldn’t believe that they’d actually done it, that she’d _finally_ managed to bring Noble’s hulking form to life, and that someone, _anyone_ , had taken it to the streets.  
  
They’d _helped_ people. They’d saved lives, and they’d utterly destroyed a surprisingly large number of criminals. As she stared at the darkened chair before her, Taylor's mind drifted to Emma, her dad, her mom. Would they be proud of her? Would they think she was insane? Biting softly at her lip, Taylor tilted her head, wondering-  
  
A shake of her head pulled her out of those thoughts. It- It didn’t matter what they’d think. She’d saved people’s lives, or she’d at least helped Amy do it, and… That was good. Nodding resolutely, Taylor lifted her hands, dragging the oil streaked gauntlets through the air over the console before her.  
  
Despite herself, a wide grin grew over her face when the screens flared to life before her with barely a flicker, and that glowing keyboard appeared from the air under her fingertips. The smile lingered as she moved her fingers, mindful that every spatter of oil that she sent flitting off through the interior space would have to be cleaned up, by her, afterwards.  
  
Bringing Noble’s reactor fully online, Taylor activated the line that she’d just installed and began to feed power into it slowly. Above her, the lights in the workshop slowly flickered to life, quickly growing to full brightness as Taylor sat in silence. As she watched the readouts, she slowly let out the breath that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Once again, she was momentarily baffled that, once again, everything just… _worked_ like it was supposed to.  
  
It was nearly a minute later when Amy’s voice calling her name snapped her out of her bemused, disbelieving stupor. Pushing out of her chair, Taylor hooked her hands over the edge of the cockpit and dragged herself out of the darkness and into the brightly lit workshop.  
  
The space around her didn’t feel any different — it still reeked of metal shavings, machine oil, sawdust, and musty air. Taylor silently wondered why she’d expected it to feel different, to look different. Perhaps it was because _she_ felt different. Thankfully, when she turned to look at Noble, the stark reminder of their outing was still there.  
  
The dings, dents, and scratches that the mech had accumulated in their adventure stood out stark and obvious on his shimmering reflective armor, and past him Amy was there, her presence standing out amidst the sheer familiarity of the space.  
  
The other girl lingered in this space between familiar and alien, and even now, she seemed to be playing into that. The healer was still clad in that form-fitting haptic suit that made Taylor have to exert a concerted effort to keep her dark eyes on the older girl’s face, taking in her excited expression.  
  
Amy had made herself at home, and Taylor’s laptop sat on her knees, the tips of the fingers of the heavy metallic gloves that she wore tapping away on the keys with a surprising amount of care. Grinning, Taylor grabbed a dirt rag off a nearby workstation and headed toward Amy.  
  
“Taylor!” Amy shouted, and jumped when she glanced up to realize that Taylor was, in fact, standing right in front of her instead of still being in the mech. Taylor smirked and raised an eyebrow, barely able to contain a chuckle when the other girl rolled her eyes before turning back to the laptop before her. “Dude! Look. We’re already on PHO.”  
  
“ _Dude_?” Taylor commented, grinning when Amy didn’t respond, merely turning so that she could watch the screen over the older girl’s shoulder. “There’s a video?” Taylor asked, watching Amy’s head as it briefly nodded, and then turned back as the video started to play.  
  
 _‘Fuck-’_ The view of the sidewalk cut over with static-laden words caused Taylor’s eyebrows to lift, and she watched curiously as the view panned up. The camera shook ominously, the person holding it clearly moving, and the sound of distant gunshots drew Taylor in. She leaned closer as the person came to the corner of the building they’d been creeping along.  
  
Taylor watched as the camera was held out past the edge of the building, getting a shaky, blurry view of a trio of police cars with their flashing lights. The view lingered like this for several minutes before it shifted upwards, and stabilized, the person behind it probably having followed it around the corner despite the still ongoing gunshots.  
  
Things past the cars came into focus, and Taylor watched as three of the police officers remained crouched behind the cars, trying to provide some form of covering fire while two more policepeople and two paramedics were trying to get close enough to recover the two downed and bleeding officers between the cars and the distant armored truck.  
  
 _‘-the fuck.’_ The words were sharp, confused, and the camera quickly spun, blurring as the distant sound of thumping feet was heard. When the focus returned, Taylor sucked in a sharp breath, finally seeing Noble in its combat mode from outside. As she stared at the knightly form, gleaming in the street lights, she was struck by the sheer _scale_ of the mech.  
  
On a clinical level, Taylor understood that Noble was just barely twenty feet tall if you counted the horn on its helmet, closer to nineteen otherwise, but seeing it from the perspective of a normal person was _staggering._ The cameraphone panned, following Noble as Amy navigated him past the gaping police and around the cars which barely reached his knees, heading toward the downed officers as the door of the van suddenly slid open, revealing the goon inside and his mounted weapon.  
  
Taylor distantly remembered Amy’s panic from within the cockpit as she’d seen that weapon come out, but from the outside, the mech moved with grace and precision, skidding to a halt in the midst of the paramedics and the fallen police, dropping smoothly to one knee. One of Noble’s hands braced itself on the concrete, the other arm coming up in front of him as the golden shield burst into life.  
  
 _‘Get behind the shield!’_ Taylor smiled at the words, the rich, commanding timbre that issued from Noble’s form. She watched surprised as the police and paramedics reacted instantly, dragging the injured police to safety just in time to avoid the worst of the fire. Sadly, the video didn’t continue into the actual combat, cutting off while Amy was still crouched amongst the paramedics with a curse and a series of approaching explosions as bullets slammed into the pavement.  
  
The note under the video indicated that the person behind the camera was fine, having merely gotten out of there when the spray of bullets got too close. One of Taylor’s hands came out, moving to scroll down the comments on the page thoughtfully. Most people were impressed or worried about the size of Noble, and a few people claiming to be friends or family of the local police chimed in with their thanks for the work they’d done.  
  
A few people, though, were less than delighted by the development. Some people claimed that they were waiting to see what was brought out to handle something like Noble, the way things might escalate, and one person whose title declared them the husband of a cape pointed out that Noble was clearly new, and that they’d gotten lucky.  
  
“They’ve got a point, you know.” Amy’s voice drifted over her shoulder, and Taylor turned, glancing at the other girl with a raised eyebrow. Amy returned the look with a faint grimace, nodding toward the computer. “About us being lucky. We did sort of run off half-cocked, and we were lucky that we didn’t run into anything worse. Most of the Empire Eighty-Eight would have been a bit more of a challenge to handle, and I shudder to think what would have happened if we’d run into Purity tearing up the street.”  
  
Taylor frowned, briefly considering the vague details she remembered about Purity. With flight, and a Blaster power like that… Noble would have been a sitting duck, though she idly wondered if they’d have even been able to get away from Purity, or if they’d have been harried endlessly until the cape got bored, or Noble’s armor gave in.  
  
“Truthfully, that’s mostly _my_ fault. We _were_ only supposed to be out there for a test drive.” Amy’s words drew Taylor back to the present, her forehead furrowing at the faint tone of self-recrimination in the older girl’s voice.  
  
“Hey,” Taylor started, watching Amy until the other girl’s eyes found hers, and she offered up a tentative smile. “You forget that I was the one controlling the transformations and the power. If I’d wanted us to go back, I doubt that there’s much you could have done to stop me.” This seemed to get through to Amy, and Taylor found herself returning the tiny smile that the other girl offered her.  
  
“Right.” Amy nodded absently before pushing off the desk. “Still, I think it might be worth considering getting some weapons before you take him out of here again. Something to even the playing field with people that you can’t slap around with his hands.” Amy waved in Noble’s direction, and Taylor followed the gesture, frowning at the words.  
  
The way that the other girl had said that felt oddly exclusionary as if Amy was speaking about when Taylor took the mech out without her being included. Taylor frowned, absently wondering why Amy seemed to think that she’d take Noble out without her as if Taylor would take Noble from her lik-  
  
Taylor blinked, shaking her head. When had _she_ started thinking of Noble as Amy’s as much it was hers? Amy had only piloted the thing once, but for some reason, the mere _idea_ of someone else, even Emma, operating him felt… strangely unsettling to her. They’d had fun tonight; they’d been good. They should… at least consider doing this more… right? Taylor frowned, opening her mouth to say… something, but the other girl was already on her feet.  
  
“What time is it?” Amy’s voice was low, worried, and Taylor blinked. The time? It wasn’t that late, really. Couldn’t be much later than two or three, they’d been here far later most nights; it only felt that late because Amy had-  
  
Dawning realization hit her like a truck when she realized that she and Amy had arrived in the afternoon. Taylor turned toward the older girl, watching as Amy quickly scurried across the room, realizing that she was headed for the lockers. Turning, Taylor’s hands quickly knocked the bits of paper off of the table, scrabbling around on top of the desk, pushing paper and tools to the side until she found her phone.  
  
Thumbing the fingerprint sensor on the device, Taylor swore under her breath at seeing a message with her dad’s name on the lock screen, along with the clock telling her that it was nearly two in the morning at this point. Her panic waned quickly when she scanned the message and realized that her dad had merely messaged her nearly three hours ago to indicate that with all the unrest going on, most of the men had opted to stay down near the docks and he would be keeping them company, rather than risk wandering into a gunfight on the way home.  
  
The mild admonishment to lock all the doors and windows was rather touching, though Taylor’s thoughts weren’t able to linger on it for long as Amy emerged from the other room, phone in hand. The pallor of her skin and the way she was biting her lip didn’t inspire confidence that her luck had been the same as Taylor’s.  
  
“Not good?” Taylor asked, jarring Amy out of her thoughts. The older girl stared at her phone for several minutes before slowly shaking her head.  
  
“N-No, Taylor. Definitely not good, I’ve got like-” Amy paused, skimming her thumb along the glowing face of her phone, worry and fear laced in her voice. “Nearly two dozen missed calls and messages. My sister and my mom are freaking out…” The girl glanced up at her, and Taylor was pinned in place by Amy’s dark eyes.  
  
“I- uh,” Taylor spoke when Amy didn’t, scrabbling for something, anything to fix this. There had to be some way of getting out of this. It wasn’t like she hadn’t had experience with this kind of thing; she and Emma had been sneaking out in the middle of the night for ages, and they’d never been caught.  
  
Well, they had, actually, twice. But, there’d been a plan for that, an emergency back up, if they thought that they’d been caught out, and they had actually used it… once, but it’d _worked._ The question was, could she pull it off with Amy? Taylor frowned, glancing down at her phone. If her dad had gotten home, he’d have messaged her, so… Maybe. If they were quick-  
  
“Right-” Taylor pulled herself out of her thoughts, doing her best to smile convincingly at Amy, watching the other girl’s brow as it furrowed. “I’ve- I’ve got a plan. Sort of. But it’s kind of time-sensitive. We need to get changed now, and we need to get back to my place… before my dad gets back and things outside are settling down, so uh… You need to change.” Taylor watched Amy, observing the indecision on the other girl’s face, and when Amy opened her mouth to argue, Taylor cut her off. “J-Just… It can’t be any worse than going home with no excuse, right?” Amy’s eyes narrowed for a moment, and Taylor nervously fidgeted in place.  
  
“...Whatever.” Amy’s tone wasn’t exactly reassuring, especially when she continued rubbing her forehead. “It’s not like I can get _extra_ grounded.” Taylor watched the girl turn and stalk off, and determination filled her. Amy had… Amy had done a lot to help her; she had to return the favor. Quickly dialing a number, Taylor clamped her phone between her ear and shoulder, tugging at her suit.  
  
“Clint? Yeah, it’s Taylor. Yeah-” Pausing to pull her gloves off, Taylor listened to the man ranting on the other side of the device. “Yeah, Yeah, I know about it all, but it’s quieted down, look I just. I need a favor.” Taylor paused, wincing at the volume coming through the earpiece. “Clint… Clint… **Clint**! I know. Alright. I just. I gotta beat my dad home, he doesn’t know I was out, and I’m desperate. I’ll pay double…” Taylor paused, frowning, pushing her coveralls off and grabbing her skirt as the man responded.  
  
“What? It’s none of your damn business. I just. Clint- What about triple?” Taylor grit her teeth. “Fine. Five hundred. Just. I need you here in like… ten minutes.” Taylor glanced at her watch, quickly pulling on her top and sweater and then hanging up the phone when the cabby hung up.  
  
Turning, Taylor froze at the sight of Amy lingering in the doorway, feeling her cheeks heating up when she saw the older girl staring at her. She hesitated for a few moments before turning and grabbing a nearby case and punching a code into it. She pulled out her emergency cash pile, shoving it into her coat and jogging toward Amy.  
  
“C’mon. Our ride will be here shortly.” Pulling Amy’s Taser out of her purse, Taylor shoved it into the other girl’s hand, gesturing for her to lead the way. Amy stared back at her for a moment before turning and leading the way out. Matching Amy’s surprisingly quick pace, Taylor followed her out, checking her phone every so often to make sure that the jig wasn’t up before they’d arrived.  
  
  


▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ █ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▃ ▂

  
  
“Taylor...That was nearly two hundred dollars.” Amy’s voice was laced with incredulity as Taylor shrugged her shoulders, moving around her and leaving her standing alone on the curb, watching the yellow taxi’s tail lights vanish around the corner in the distance.  
  
“He got us back here in, like, twelve minutes Amy; he earned a tip. Now, _come on._ ” Taylor was already halfway across the lane, and Amy turned, hustling after her. When she’d made it up onto the porch, the other girl had already vanished into the house, leaving the door open in her wake.  
  
Shutting the door behind her, Amy hesitated on the mat just inside the door, glancing around the empty and dark entrance hall. A light snapped on in the living room, and Taylor emerged from within a few seconds later, making her way across the hall to peer into another room, probably the kitchen. After a moment of glancing around in there, the younger girl turned and dashed up the stairs, vanishing into the second floor, returning a moment later with a grin.  
  
“Looks like we’re in the clear. Lose the shoes and coat. And lock the door.” Amy blinked at the strangely take-charge tone in the other girl’s voice, but she obeyed the commands, kicking off her boots and hanging her jacket by the door. While she was working, Taylor bounded down the steps and vanished into the kitchen, turning another light on in her wake.  
  
When she heard the sound of rushing water, Amy followed Taylor into the kitchen, staring in bemusement as Taylor quickly wet a pair of pans, some plates and cutlery before setting it in a drying rack almost haphazardly. The girl rummaged around within the fridge, pulling out several plates of what looked to be leftovers and carrying them over to the garbage, smoothly dumping them out.  
  
“Right. Uh. Popcorn.” Taylor quickly turned, rifling through the cupboards for a moment before emerging with a bag of off-brand microwave-popping popcorn, which she promptly handed to Amy. “You pop that while I get this out into the garage and then uh... Meet me in the living room.” The girl descended on the trash can, a whirlwind of movement as she tied off the bag and dragged it out of the room, and Amy found herself chuckling as she made her way over to set the popcorn to popping.  
  
As the microwave ran, Amy moved around the kitchen, checking the cupboards until she found a bowl and brought it down, waiting for the popcorn to finish. The sound of the door opening and closing startled her, but thankfully only Taylor appeared at the doorway of the kitchen, flashing her a smile when she saw the bowl that Amy was holding.  
  
“Phone!” Taylor held out her hands, and Amy blinked, tugging out her phone, tossing it over. Taylor checked it over, making sure that it wasn’t locked before turning back to her with a reassuring smile. “Right. I’ve gotta tweak this, and then I’m gonna change. Once that’s done, just head into the living room, and I’ll meet you there.” Nodding nervously, Amy watched Taylor as the other girl vanished from view with her phone.  
  
As far as plans went, ‘lie about what happened, and blame it on acts of god’ typically wasn’t the best option for Amy, but Taylor seemed to be certain that she could do something to make the plan work, so Amy turned her attention back to the popcorn, listening as the popping slowed after a few moments. When it finally stopped, she popped the door, ripping the bag open and dumping it out into the bowl before carrying the food toward the living room.  
  
It was nearly fifteen minutes later when Taylor finally appeared at the entrance, dressed in simple jeans and a tank top that practically screamed ‘casual study date.’ Amy studied her curiously, reaching up to catch her phone when Taylor tossed it back to her.  
  
“Alright, I did my thing. As far as that thing’s GPS is concerned, we met up at the library, and then came here afterward, and it’s been having issues connecting to the towers all day long.” Amy glanced down at her phone, blinking as she opened it up and checked it, staring in fascination when she found that the angry and worried messages from her family had vanished. She glanced up at Taylor, who grinned as she flicked off the lights and rolled over the back of the couch to land next to her. “When you restart it, it’ll dump all those messages back into your history again, with updated timestamps. So uh, don’t do that until you’re ready to call them.”  
  
Amy nodded, watching when Taylor scooped up the nearby remote, casually flicking through the channels for a few moments, looking for something to watch. Amy, however, was focused on Taylor’s face. That familiar wide, comfortable grin lingered there, the one that Amy had seen several times tonight as Taylor had lost herself in manipulating Noble’s systems to keep the mech moving. Something about that grin told her that the younger girl was in her element like this.  
  
“So.” Taylor’s voice startled her out of her thoughts, and Amy turned to meet her curious eyes. “You should get comfortable. Shuffle over and lay down.” Amy moved along the L-shaped couch, moving to spread herself out on one entire arm, muttering a faint _thank you_ as Taylor handed her a big puffy cushion. Amy tucked it under her head and settled on her side on the couch, staring up at Taylor, who was getting comfy in the corner near her, leaning into the back of the couch. “So, you remember the story, right?” Taylor asked absently as she lowered the volume on the television.  
  
“Yeah, we met up at the library to study. I was helping you with bio, and you were helping me with physics, and-” Amy cut off when Taylor leaned closer, looming up and over her, inhaling sharply as Taylor moved to grab the throw that was slung over the back of the couch behind her, though her hesitation was for naught.  
  
Despite the closeness and the way that the other girl was moving, Taylor’s skin never came in contact with hers. The other girl was especially careful about letting them touch, and the few occasions that it’d accidentally happened, Taylor’s clear mortification had been oddly endearing to the healer. As the young girl draped the thin throw over her, Amy flashed her an amused smile before continuing.  
  
“We’d been in the midst of working when the crime spree started. The librarians asked us to go home, and I was gonna take a bus, then you _insisted_ that I not, and instead come back here with you till things calmed down. We tried to call people, but the cell towers have all been spotty with the amount of destruction and chaos going on. We had dinner and dozed off watching movies.” Amy glanced up at Taylor, watching as the other girl studied her for a few moments before nodding.  
  
“Right…” Taylor turned from her to glance around at the small living room. Following her gaze, Amy watched as Taylor grabbed a few kernels of the popcorn, lightly tossing a few on the table, some on the floor before slowly eating the rest. Amy glanced around as Taylor slowly settled into a pose that at least looked partially comfortable and studied her, imagining the scene in its entirety.  
  
It felt… strange how believable the story seemed, and how… out of character for her, it was. She didn’t… she didn’t have friends like this. She didn’t just go to people’s houses and watch television; she didn’t get comfortable and doze off on their couches, but… part of her wondered if she could have. If she’d met Taylor under different circumstances. She felt… at ease here, comfortable with Taylor looming over her.  
  
She should have been terrified, worried that her sister was about to kick in the door, or that her parents were about to send an entire police squad but… she wasn’t. She was… worried, but part of her believed that the plan would work. She doubted Taylor’s faith in her mother’s ‘good nature’ that she’d get out of this without some punishment, but it was… it would be better than what she’d get for showing up with no excuse for why she was out all night.  
  
Shaking her head to rid herself of her thoughts, Amy settled back in, tucking one of her arms up under the cushion under her head. Glancing up at Taylor, she found herself studying the lines of the other girl’s face as she pretended to watch the TV. Oddly, the lingering concern that was slowly emerging on her face was both somewhat familiar and touching. From what she’d seen, this was Taylor’s typical reaction once the planning and prep stages came to an end when it came down to waiting to see where the dice might fall.  
  
“Hey, Taylor.” Amy was surprised how rough her voice sounded, and she watched as Taylor glanced down at her, doing her best to smile warmly despite her visible concern. “W-we were talking about weapons, right? Have you had any ideas?” Amy couldn’t help but smile when the younger girl blinked, surprised at the question before blowing out a breath, one hand running through her hair.  
  
“I, uh, inspiration is hard,” Taylor muttered, and Amy studied the girl’s features, watching the way her expression closed down a bit. “When… When I triggered, I had all these amazing ideas, dozens of them… but, uh. When I picked Noble, the mech one, they all just… evaporated. That was all I got. Ever since then, I’ve been so busy building and designing him that I haven't been able to create anything else. Even when I’ve tried.” Taylor frowned and stared at her hands, and Amy studied her profile silently.  
  
“Well… if you could, what would you build, for a weapon?” Amy watched as Taylor glanced down at her, offering her a bemused smile.  
  
“Amy, that’s not really how it works, I can’t just-” Taylor paused, trailing off after a moment, her eyes becoming unfocused and distant as she stared in Amy’s vague direction. “I-uh… actually… I’ve got a few ideas,” Taylor muttered slowly, tilting her head to the side.  
  
“Like what?” Amy perked up a bit, fighting off the urge to yawn as Taylor settled back next to her, staring off into the middle distance and considering the empty air.  
  
“I uh-” Taylor paused, wetting her lips with her tongue before continuing. “Lots of things… a gun that shoots… energy blasts that knock people out by sapping away their energy, physical and mental energy. Or uh… A rocket launcher that I could incorporate into Noble’s arm, small, almost _too_ small.” Amy chuckled at the comments, closing her eyes as Taylor continued.  
  
“Or armor… Some sort of calcium crystal substrate that generates under the normal armor. Energy output would cause it to regenerate, perhaps with some form of… overdrive… Spikes.” Taylor paused, humming deeply in thought before her mind jumped tracks. “Other things, swords, maces…” Amy gave in, loosing the yawn that was tugging at her lips, and snuggled deeper into the pillow, offering up an amused sound.  
  
“Swords would fit the theme better, I think. Noble is a knight, after all.” Amy reached up, rubbing at her cheek as she let her eyes drift shut, resting them as she waited for Taylor’s father to get home.  
  
“Swords?” Taylor muttered, and Amy listened, almost able to hear the gears turning in the tinker’s head. Taylor’s thoughts began to take over, and Amy felt herself almost sinking into the pillow as the younger girl’s voice dropped, soft mutterings lulling her into a comfortable doze. “I could do… a duplicating weapon, but the copies would only last… six to eight seconds? That doesn’t seem... Well, what about something that grows when it gets power. I could start small, say a pugio, and then it gets bigger and bigger… and fire, actually. Flames when it’s large enough. Could return to normal size after. The question is—”  
  
Her focus began to waver, the words starting to meld together into a faint, subtle whisper that wrapped around her. There was something now familiar, and oddly reassuring about Taylor verbally working through a problem like this, and Amy couldn’t resist the tiny smile that bloomed on her face as she gave in to the darkness reaching out invitingly toward her.  
  
  


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The sudden, unexpected pressure on her shoulder set her heart to thundering, and Taylor jerked upwards and forward, dislodging the hand that’d been gripping it. Confusion and shock washed through her, and she spun backward, staring at her father in confusion. When had-  
  
“Taylor, shh, it’s just me. You fell asleep on the couch.” His voice was soft, reassuring, and Taylor blearily blinked her eyes. Sleep? No, that wasn’t right at all. She didn’t sleep. She hadn’t slept in months. One hand lifted, scrubbing at her left eye as she pushed back.  
  
She’d… settled on a design, and reams of schematics filled her mind, inspiration flooding her from the backs of her eyeballs down to the tips of her toes. She’d had the desperate urge to find some paper, to write down what she’d seen, but when she’d tried to move, she’d found that Amy had migrated closer-  
  
Looking down, she stared at Amy’s sleeping form. The girl had curled the throw more tightly around herself, and she’d pushed her pillow closer, and even now Taylor could feel the weight of Amy’s form against her side. Right. She hadn’t wanted to wake the other girl up, so she’d just stayed still to wait for her dad’s arrival. She’d gotten a bit bored, closed her eyes, and then-  
  
“Oh. I hadn’t realized that we had company.” Taylor’s attention was sluggishly dragged back to her father as he stepped closer, putting his hands on the back of the couch, and she couldn’t resist the faint color that came to her cheeks when he leaned down to peer at Amy sleeping against her side. “Isn’t this just a blast from the past, I haven’t seen Emma in quite a whi-” It was obvious the moment that his brain caught up with what he was seeing, the words instantly trailing off as he glanced at her curiously.  
  
“It’s uh, it’s not Emma,” Taylor commented, nearly under her breath. Taylor watched her dad’s eyes as they narrowed, and she nervously hunched up her shoulders and reached out, gently gripping Amy’s shoulder, making sure that she didn’t touch the girl’s skin at all as she shook her. “Amy. Amy, wake up. We fell asleep watching movies.”  
  
“Five m’re minutes, Vicky.” The words were low, confused, and laced with a petulant distaste, and Taylor found herself chuckling as she retook Amy’s shoulder, giving her a firmer shake.  
  
“It’s not Vicky, Amy. It’s Taylor, c’mon.” Thankfully, this seemed to penetrate the sleepy haze clinging to the younger girl’s mind, and she instantly froze. Taylor glanced up at her dad, studying his curious, concerned expression. She spoke softly, letting Amy recover her wits at her own pace.  
  
“This is Amy, she’s a-” Taylor paused, glancing down at Amy, studying the girl’s tense form. “We uh, we were studying at the library, when… everything happened. I didn’t think it was safe to send her home, so I brought her back here till things calmed down, and we must have fallen asleep.” Rubbing at her eye, Taylor glanced over to the window that showed that it was still rather dark outside. When her dad didn’t immediately respond, merely staring at her with a mildly confused expression, she pressed on. “Er. What time is it?”  
  
“Time? Uh...” Her question snapped her dad out of his thoughts, and he lifted his arm, checking his watch. “Little after three-thirty.” Taylor bit her lip, belatedly realizing how long they’d slept when Amy’s form suddenly lurched up with a faint gasp of shock that Taylor was _pretty_ sure wasn’t actually faked.  
  
“Th-three?” The word spilled out laced with confusion and concern. Shifting away from the other girl, Taylor watched as Amy snapped her gaze between her father and her several times before quickly fishing through her pockets for her phone, finally remembering the plan. “My parents are going to kill me,” she muttered, tapping her phone several times before swearing.  
  
Taylor was forced to hold back the tiny laugh that bubbled up when Amy seemed to realize what she’d said, and she spun to shoot an apologetic look at where Taylor’s father loomed behind the couch. Though, the hand wave that her father offered in response seemed to indicate that he got it.  
  
“Having trouble?” Taylor’s father’s curious, concerned tone shocked her, and she watched as Amy responded with a beleaguered nod. Thankfully, her dad responded smoothly, playing into their plan. “Cell reception is always really spotty around here, and I doubt everything going on really helped. Try restarting your phone.” Amy’s face dropped into a mask, playing up a consternated expression as she went through the process of turning her phone off and then back on.  
  
When the phone issued nearly a dozen dings one after another, Taylor let out her breath, relieved. She hadn’t been as truthful with Amy about her confidence in the plan, and thankfully things seemed to be working thus far. Taylor watched Amy’s eyes as they visibly widened, watching her skim through her messages with what outwardly looked to be growing concern.  
  
“I’m in so much trouble,” Amy muttered under her breath, and Taylor wondered how much of that was faked. Thankfully, her dad stepped in with a gruff chuckle, moving over.  
  
“It’ll be alright, dear; it’s an honest mistake. Why don’t you call your parents, and I’ll speak to them.” Sinking back into her couch with relief, Taylor crossed her legs, watching as Amy played at being reluctant just long enough before dialing up the phone and fiddling with her shirt as it rang. Taylor leaned forward, watching as Amy pulled the phone from her ear as soon as it was answered.  
  
Even from where she was sitting, Taylor could hear the faint sounds of a woman’s voice, and she winced in sympathy as Amy tried to cut through what looked to be a staggering lecture.  
  
“Mom-” Amy grimaced as the shouting continued apace. “M-mom… Mom!” Amy brought the phone back to her ear when the words trailed off in shock at her raised voice, and she continued quickly before her mother could regain her steam. “Mom. I’m sorry, and I’m fine. I didn’t get your messages earlier. Issues with my phone.” Amy hesitated and winched when the argument sounded. “I’m uh... I’m at a friend's house. We were-”  
  
Taylor watched Amy’s face as it fell, and breathed out a tiny sigh when her dad stepped over, holding out his hand to Amy. There was a momentary hesitation before Amy offered the phone over, and Taylor watched her dad bringing the phone up to his ear.  
  
“Excuse me.” Taylor was impressed with the low, patient tone in her father’s voice, and more impressed when the shouting immediately cut off. “Hi. Yes. Sorry. This is Danny Hebert? I guess our daughters are friends. Partially this is my fault. I was supposed to be home from work hours ago, but with everything going on, I was sort of trapped in the docks.” Taylor waited for another explosion, but oddly, things seemed strangely calm as she watched her dad listen on the phone.  
  
“Yes. That’s right. Taylor, that’s my daughter. They were studying at the library nearby; I guess when things started kicking off tonight. Taylor ended up dragging Amy back home with her; she didn’t want to risk her getting hurt on the bus.” Danny chuckled after a moment, stepping out of the room with Amy’s phone, heading for the kitchen. “Yes, it looks like they had dinner too. Her phone didn’t seem to be working when I got back; unfortunately cell reception out here is…”  
  
Taylor turned to Amy as her dad’s voice dropped down to a low murmur in the other room. The other girl stared in muted disbelief in Danny’s wake for several moments before letting out an explosive sigh. Taylor’s lips curled into a tiny frown as she watched Amy’s hands move, the girl’s fingers curling into the fabric of her shirt in worry.  
  
“It’ll be fine. Dad’s done this call a few times,” Taylor offered up in her best attempt at a reassuring voice, blinking when Amy glanced at her curiously. Flushing absently, Taylor fiddled with her shirt. “Me and Emma had a bad habit of just dozing off wherever we settled, and he’d find us when he got home. Trust me. You’re in good hands.” She did her best to smile, and it became a bit less forced when Amy returned it after a few moments.  
  
Amy joined her on the couch, but the girl’s eyes remained locked on the door to the kitchen, and she was clearly straining to hear what was being said. Taylor bit her lip, studying Amy’s features in profile again.  
  
“Sorry,” Taylor commented faintly, watching as Amy glanced at her curiously.  
  
“Taylor… I’m the one that suggested we take Noble out, and I should have paid more attention to the time.” Taylor shrugged her shoulders nervously and continued fiddling with her shirt, turning to glance toward the kitchen, watching to see if her dad was coming back this way. “Really, it’ll be fine, I think. We’ll just have to-”  
  
Her voice cut off when Taylor’s dad reappeared in the doorway, and the older girl pushed herself to her feet, heading over and taking the phone. There was a moment of silence before Amy’s cheeks suddenly colored a brilliant crimson, and she spoke.  
  
“Mom, I don’t think… It’s not really necessary.” Amy’s voice was low, almost plaintive, and she growled at whatever was said in response. “Fine. The password is, _‘Where’s my fuzzy teddy bear.’_ ” Taylor’s lips quirked into an amused smile, but she didn’t say anything when Amy shot her a warning glare.  
  
“See! I’m fine; I promise you-” Amy growled again. “I didn’t _lie,_ Mom, I did go to the library. I just didn’t say that I was meeting someone.” Amy paused, listening. “‘Cause it wasn’t any of her business.” Amy turned, stalking out of the room as well, voice lowering as she left. “‘Cause Taylor is my friend, and she offered to…”  
  
Taylor’s attention drifted to where her dad stood, watching Amy’s passage into the kitchen with his arms crossed over his chest. When his head turned in her direction, Taylor found herself nervously fidgeting in place at the unreadable expression on his face.  
  
“So. Amy _Dallon,_ hrm?” The words were tentative, laced with concern, and Taylor felt her cheeks heating up a touch. She glanced at her dad, wincing at the way that he stared. “Didn’t think that I’d ever walk into the house to find a superhero sleeping on my couch.”  
  
“Dad, it’s not like-” she started, leaning forward, speaking before _she_ realized what she was claiming that it wasn’t like, merely sure that whatever her dad was imagining was wrong. When she trailed off, though, her dad merely raised an eyebrow at her before leaning against the back of the couch, turning to peer off toward the kitchen.  
  
“How’d it happen?” His question was off-handed, almost absent, but Taylor frowned, able to glean the subtle hints of concern and suspicion from his tone.  
  
“Remember that bad chest cold I had?” Taylor spoke softly, peering out of the corner of her eye at her dad, watching as his head dipped almost imperceptibly. “Remember how I miraculously recovered?” Taylor’s dad tilted toward her, and she watched his eyes starting to narrow, so she chimed in quickly. “I uh, I thought that I was doing better and went out. I wanted to get a few things, and I was just… wandering around the mall, window shopping. I felt faint. Amy and her sister caught me as I actually fainted.” Taylor winced as her dad’s head, snapped toward her, his expression hardening.  
  
“As you _fainted?_ Taylor, why wouldn’t you tell-” Taylor waved at him, shaking her head and nodding toward the kitchen.  
  
“Dad! Dad, I-I was fine, seriously. She just— She patched me up, and then sat with me as I recovered.” Taylor watched her dad’s expression as it softened after a few moments, and he let out a sigh, turning to stare back toward the kitchen, observing the diminished suspicion and concern visible on his features. “We got to talking, I bought her dinner as thanks, and we started hanging out. We’re friends now.”  
  
“Does she _know_?” Taylor winced at the question, glancing away from her father as his attention shifted back toward her. Nervously fiddling with her shirt, Taylor curled her shoulders up defensively as she shook her head. There was a momentary hesitation before her dad continued, voice chiding. “Taylor, you know that-”  
  
“Dad, it’s- It’s not like that. I’m not… hiding it. It’s just… It hasn’t come up.” Taylor glanced back at her dad, taking in the mild disbelief on his face, the faint hints of disapproval lingering at the edges of his expression. Thankfully, before he could open his mouth to continue the lecture, Amy’s form appeared at the doorway of the kitchen, clutching her phone with both hands, her expression startlingly somber.  
  
“Hey.” Taylor was up and off the couch before she realized it, striding curiously toward the shorter girl. Her advance dithered to a halt when Amy flashed her a quick, forced smile as she held up her phone.  
  
“I, uh, my sister’s coming to take me home.” Taylor nervously fidgeted in place, tempted to say something, anything, but she could practically feel her dad’s eyes burning into her back. She glanced over her shoulder, giving her dad a _look_ that it took him nearly fifteen seconds to catch, but after a few moments, he jerked up to full height, rubbing at the back of his neck.  
  
“Er. Right. I should be-” Her dad trailed off, and Taylor glanced toward Amy, rolling her eyes, a tiny smile gracing her features as the older girl’s expression crinkled in amusement. It took her dad a few moments to scrabble up a decent excuse. “Uh. Shower! I’ve… It’s been a long day; I should be getting a shower and then bed.” Taylor turned to watch her dad when he started to move away from the couch, heading past her toward Amy.  
  
“It was nice to meet you, Amy. Hopefully, the next time we run into each other, we’ll be able to speak some.” Taylor opened her mouth, ready to protest when her dad offered out one of his long, thin calloused hands. Surprisingly, Amy merely pinned a polite smile on her face, and took the hand, giving it a quick shake.  
  
If Taylor hadn’t been looking for it, she probably would have missed the tiny tensing of the muscles along Amy’s jaw, the way her forehead furrowed just a bit — clear signs of the distaste the girl felt toward the physical contact.  
  
“Though, hopefully, next time you visit it’ll be-” Cheeks burning a brilliant crimson, Taylor moved over, grabbing her dad’s arm and pushing him away from Amy, cutting off his comments.  
  
“And that’s enough from you, Dad. Let’s go.” Her gaze cut toward Amy as she pushed her dad along, and Taylor smiled at the lingering smile on Amy’s face. She spoke over her shoulder as she forced her dad along. “I’m gonna change into something else, but I’ll meet you outside.” When the other girl nodded, Taylor perked up, chuckling as her father finally moved of his own accord, playfully waving her off and heading up the stairs ahead of her.  
  
  


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Amy checked the time on her phone, just after four in the morning, before taking a seat on the edge of Taylor’s porch. She brought her feet up to rest on the step below where she was sitting, wrapping her arms around her knee and holding her phone loosely in her hand while staring up at the sky.  
  
Thick, wispy clouds drifted slowly over the glowing face of the moon, and Amy bit at her lip, glancing along the skylines curiously. It was pointless — even if Victoria could have been here this quickly, there was no way that Amy could have possibly seen her in the dark — but still, there was that distant sensation of an approaching typhoon.  
  
Victoria hadn’t responded to the three messages that she’d sent her after getting off the phone with Carol, and Amy found herself desperately hoping that it was merely a result of her sister forgetting her phone, and not some indication that she’d actually upset her. Nervously worrying her bottom lip, her eyes drifted skyward once more, slowly tracing along the horizon until the door behind her creaked open.  
  
Soft footsteps hinted that Taylor had joined her, and Amy turned, glancing over her shoulder, blinking with surprise. As was the fashion for today, she found herself startled with the younger girl’s clothes. It was hard for her to imagine the girl before her was the one that she’d gotten familiar with in that workshop.  
  
Instead of thick, grungy coveralls spattered in machine oil, Taylor was wearing simple and decidedly feminine pajamas: a simple pair of scrub-style pants and a tank top. More than that, over these billowy garments, the younger girl had wrapped herself in something that looked to be the bastard child of a heavy patterned wool pullover and a housecoat.  
  
“Hey.” Taylor’s voice was low, curious, and Amy tilted her head almost imperceptibly, which the other girl seemed to take as an invitation. Slipper clad feet slapped along the wooden porch, and Amy had to shift to the side, making room for the other girl to take a seat next to her on the steps.  
  
She waited, watching Taylor out of the corner of her eye, surprised when she didn’t continue, merely turning her own attention skyward, glancing around curiously. Amy considered the lines of Taylor’s face, watching the clear signs of the girl’s churning thoughts and lingering discontent.  
  
“Your dad seems cool,” Amy tried, flushing at the curious glance that she got as the words seemed to fall flat between them. When Taylor’s eyes lingered on her, Amy felt cheeks burning at the attention, and she turned to glance away, staring down at the street. “He uh, he managed to cut Carol off in the midst of a rant. That takes some skill.” Amy smiled when Taylor chuckled, the absent sound hinting at some story that the other girl didn’t actually share.  
  
“Yeah… Dad’s… Dad’s something,” Taylor commented faintly, and Amy turned back, watching the younger girl tuck her woolen coat a bit tighter around herself, fingers tangling in the thick material. “Do you think it helped?” Taylor asked finally, and Amy bit her lip in thought, offering a shrug after a few moments.  
  
“It couldn’t have made anything worse. And Carol seemed a lot more focused on the fact that I didn’t tell anyone that I was meeting up with someone, as opposed to how late I was out... “ Rolling her eyes quietly at that, Amy turned her attention back to the street. She could practically feel the nervous tension radiating off Taylor at this point, and she bit back the urge to order Taylor not to apologize again, unsure why the sentiment kept bubbling up within her.  
  
But the other girl didn’t apologize or say anything else either, merely settling into place and keeping her gaze on the dark clouds drifting past the moon. A loose, semi-comfortable silence spread between them, and Amy followed Taylor’s gaze, trying to ignore the numerous heavy questions hanging in the air between them, focusing on the few stars that she could see.  
  
“So-” The words jarred Amy from her fruitless attempts to locate her sister’s approach, and she turned back to Taylor, smirking at the oddly determined look on the younger girl’s face. When Taylor caught her eye, the younger girl quickly pressed on, voice spilling forth in a heated rush. “About… tonight. Everything. I’m- I… I had a lot of fun, even with… everything that happened.” Amy tilted her head to the side, smiling curiously at the oddly warm sentiment.  
  
“Yeah. I did too… It was… an experience. You do good work, you know? Truthfully, I hadn’t been expecting to get up to anything… so wild, but I’m glad that I had a chance to try-” Amy smiled softly as she spoke, watching Taylor’s cheeks start to darken, and the other girl cut her off.  
  
“Yeah, about that. I- Things are kind of tense right now, but we should… _talk_ , you know? About, uh… every-” Amy leaned forward curiously, wondering what Taylor was implying when the girl instantly trailed off, her eyes widening and features paling. Turning to follow the younger girl’s gaze, Amy saw her sister striding up the path, expression hard and hands clenched.  
  
“Victoria!” Amy’s voice spilled out, and she was on her feet before she even realized it, standing between her sister and Taylor with an incredulous look on her features. She wasn’t sure if it was the tone that she’d used or the fact that she’d actually gotten between Victoria and her target, but her sister staggered to a halt, eyes widening as she met her gaze.  
  
“Ames-” Cutting her sister off when she started with that chiding tone, Amy shook her head resolutely. Rather than telling Victoria off for what the girl had been about to do or say, Amy, tried to change the subject, gesturing over her shoulder with her head.  
  
“Vicky, this is my _friend,_ Taylor.” When Vicky didn’t move or speak, Amy stepped to the side and gestured the other way after glancing at Taylor. “Taylor, you’ve met Victoria, well, passed out on her, but this is my sister.”  
  
“Uh, hey.” Taylor nervously pushed to her feet, offering a hesitant wave that Vicky returned with a tiny nod. Apparently sensing the tension there, Taylor nervously fidgeted with the back of her neck. “Sorry about all this. I just- I probably shouldn’t have made such a mess of things, I was just… worried, you know.” Amy watched in muted disbelief as something about Taylor seemed to _shift_ before her eyes.  
  
“Worried?” Victoria’s voice drifted out, and Taylor nodded simply, biting at her bottom lip. Smooth, expressive hand gestures started up, and the younger girl’s body language changed, becoming more open, more inviting as she nodded in Amy’s direction.  
  
“Yeah, there was… there was a lot of dangerous stuff going on, around here. And… Amy was down here because I invited her.” A flicker of guilt washed over Taylor’s face, and Amy was forced to keep her mouth from dropping open as the girl nervously fiddled with her left sleeve. “I didn’t feel safe letting her get on the bus… We were close to here, though, and I figured we could just… you know. Hang out. Watch some movies. Eat some leftovers.” Victoria glanced at her, eyebrows raising, and Amy hunched her shoulders defensively at the curious look on her sister's face.  
  
“I _was_ having fun,” Amy admitted absently, fiddling with her sleeve before doing her best to keep her expression straight as she started to lie. “I did try to call. My phone’s been having issues all afternoon. Bad reception and uh… well, you know.” Amy made a vague gesture that her sister seemed to understand meant something along the lines of ‘maniacs wreaking havoc across the city.’ Victoria stared at her for a few moments, and Amy nervously fidgeted as those sharp blue eyes flicked between Taylor and her several more times before finally softening.  
  
“Thanks.” Considering the general suspicion that she’d seen in her sister, the softly muttered comment was a bit of a shock to Amy, especially when Victoria turned to Taylor and flashed her a grateful smile. Taylor’s reaction, though, was perfect, the girl smoothly offered up a bashful smile, taking a step back with a simple wave.  
  
“It’s fine-” Taylor tried to start, only to trail off when Victoria spoke up once more.  
  
“No, it’s not, Amy’s really bad at looking out for her own interests at times.” Victoria’s voice was soft, and Amy’s brow furrowed as Victoria continued, and she glanced over at Taylor, flushing softly at the genuine surprise on the younger girl’s face. Unaware of their exchange, her sister pressed on. “It’s nice that there’s someone else around willing to tell her when she’s being stupid and trying to keep her out of trouble.” Amy’s lips pressed into a thin line as Taylor quickly waved a hand, backpedaling.  
  
“I wouldn’t go that far.” The girl offered with a tentative smile, cheeks darkening. “Amy’s kind of stubborn, you know. I just uh… suggested an alternative. She’s the one that was willing to step out of the line of fire.” Vicky glanced at her, and something about her sister’s expression left Amy feeling rather off-kilter. She glanced away, ignoring the way her cheeks continued to burn.  
  
“Much as I’m loving the bonding—” Amy forced as much sarcasm as she could into her tone, crossing her arms and acting rather put upon as she stared at the nearby horizon. “Mom’s probably waiting to rip me a new one, Vicky. We should get going.” Vicky’s answering snort was expected, but when Amy’s eyes found Taylor again, she hesitated, pinned in place by the intense look on the younger girl’s face.  
  
She couldn’t help imagining that a dozen unvoiced thoughts were lingering behind Taylor’s dark eyes, something poignant and tense hanging between them until Victoria moved, and the tension instantly melted out of them both.  
  
“I- I should get inside. It’s late.” Taylor climbed the steps before turning and offering her a nervous smile that Amy did her best to return. “Call me, or text me? We’ll uh; we’ll talk later.” Amy nodded simply, and Taylor’s lips curled into a smile before she turned, disappearing back into the house.  
  
When she glanced back at her sister, Victoria’s unreadable expression was back, and something about the look in her sister’s eyes put Amy on edge. Biting her bottom lip, she stepped closer. She’d expected a dozen questions, an interrogation, but her sister merely picked her up and lifted into the air.  
  
For once, when Amy kept her gaze on the distant skyline, it wasn’t to avoid the feeling of her heart thundering in her chest or the way that Victoria’s arms made her feel as they wrapped around her. Instead, it was to distract her from the sensation of Victoria’s eyes raking over her as her sister contemplated her like she was some sort of overly complicated puzzle.  
  
Shockingly, she was almost relieved when her home came into view, and she saw Carol and Mark waiting for her, stern expressions on their faces.  
  
  


▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ █ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▃ ▂ ****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[And this brings us to the end of the Beta Build of Hebert Heavy Industries. =] The Second Arc, 'Live Build' will be launching, soon, though we're going to have an interlude between this arc and that one which will come out after I do the next IA update. Overall, I really enjoyed this arc, and the way that we got to see the two heroines, but from this point on we'll start to get to see the changes between this AU, and the main universe. In total, I've made two changes with my Author Fiat powers. One for Amy, and one for Taylor and most everything we see divergent wise here, are as a result of those changes.
> 
> On to the actual chapter itself, there was a lot here that I enjoyed writing, the interactions between Taylor and Danny, and the girls and Victoria were both interesting to write, and a lot different then I'd originally envisioned in my head, but it all sort of works. And it's neat to see how Taylor and Amy's interactions with each other have smoothed out around the edges a bit after they'd finally taken Noble out, that's a neat side effect, I think. I enjoyed writing out Taylor's scheme, and that's amusing because uh, originally the plan was just to send Amy home in a cab and claim that this had all happened, and see what happened from there, but it grew into what we see here.
> 
> In any case, I've prattled on enough and I have to get to work, but as always I eagerly await your thoughts and feedback, and I'll be around in the comments.]]


	7. Ancillary Build - v1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[Sorry about the delay, had to do two updates for IA, but we're back to the regular update schedule! It was challenging to figure out what to call these things, buuuut I think I settled on something neat. As always, thanks to our beta, Noelemahc, and some quick thanks to the quick fingers of Juff for giving this a once over. Rather than jabber on up here, I'll speak to you nerds in the post chapter notes.]]

_April 13th, 2011_   
_Undocumented Tinker Workshop, Docks, Brockton Bay_

  
  
_‘Don’t...Breathe.’_ The thought echoed warningly through her head, contrasted by the heavy thrumming beat that washed through her from the nearby stereo. Truthfully, she didn’t need to remind herself of that particular danger. She was _perfectly_ aware of the fact that if she exhaled at the wrong moment, she’d detonate the shell on the table in front of her and end up smeared across the wall behind her, if she was lucky.  
  
Thankfully, she was nearly done at this point, and her vision only began to gray around the edges when she was finally sliding the final blasting cap into place, before securing it with the last fuse. A quick, almost cursory glance to make sure that the thirteen shells on the table _looked_ safe, and she let out a long, slow breath. She only inhaled sharply when the borrowed workstation before her didn’t erupt into an explosion of kaleidoscopic color.  
  
She let the explosives settle for several seconds before slumping back into her chair. She’d done it, and barring a tiny little twinge of pain at the edges of her temples that was quickly fading, nothing had gone wrong… at least ostensibly. She honestly had no idea what the shells would do when they were fired.  
  
Eventually concluding her creations wouldn’t detonate in her face on their own, she carefully pushed back her chair and slid to her feet. Grabbing a handy rag off the table in front of her, she carefully wiped at the grease and chemicals that clung to her hands. Sadly, the cloth merely ground the materials uncomfortably into her skin, prompting her to toss it over the remains of an antique computer on a nearby desk.  
  
She turned and headed toward the frosted glass door at the rear of the shop, bemusement washing through her like a wave. She honestly hadn’t expected her powers to play this nicely within the constraints that she’d been handed. At the best of times, they were recalcitrant, and yet, she had suffered no ill effects from forcing them to play along with someone else's rules. Perhaps even they were curious to see what would come of this fascinating venture.  
  
Through the door, she entered a bathroom that was decorated similarly to the room that she’d left. Both of the spaces could have easily been described as ‘retro-50’s office chic’ with olive green and off-white yellow dominating the color schemes. The toilet, sink, and shower stall all bore the same rounded design and chromed fixtures. Or at least they’d once been chromed, as at the moment everything looked a tad bit rusted, but at least the water worked.  
  
Turning on the sink, she let the brown, brackish water run down the drain until it cleared, dousing her hands before lathering them in soap and working to scrub every last trace of her work from her hands. It took a few minutes, but eventually, her hands were pale once more, and the last of the brownish-black water was swirling around the bottom of the sink basin and vanishing down the drain.  
  
Letting out a long breath, she finally glanced up, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Despite all the stark differences, it was oddly reassuring to see that it was still Nora Chen staring back at her out of the glass. Sharp blue eyes were the only thing that she immediately recognized in her reflection, the only thing about the woman in the reflective surface that she’d seen six months ago, a year ago. Everything else had warped.  
  
She looked gaunt, half alive like she was the ghost of the girl that’d stared back at her before she’d gone into class in January. That discordant image wasn’t improved by the baggy radiation suit that she was wearing, nor the heavy leather apron and welding goggles that hung casually off her frame.  
  
Nora lifted her hands, fingertips dragging along the sharp lines of her cheekbones and lazily tracing along the sunken lines that now dominated her face. The digits moved on, tracing past the dark bags under eyes, and she grimaced at how… old she looked, how exhausted and weary. This, she suspected, was the reason that she’d probably been so reluctant to take that _ridiculous_ gas mask off.  
  
Huffing, Nora shook off her self-reflecting melancholy and reached up, running her fingers through the wild mess of hair atop her head. She haphazardly raked her hands through the knotted locks in some approximation of a brush, then pulled the strands back into a semblance of order before smoothly tying them back into a ponytail.  
  
Quickly turning her head one way, and then the other, Nora forced a tiny smile over her face before grimacing at how uncomfortable she looked. When her stomach let out a dissatisfied growl, she shook her head and stepped back, giving up the mirror as a lost cause. It took only a moment to quickly splash some water over her face before drying it off with a fluffy green towel. Hanging the towel by the shower stall, she stalked back out into the workshop.  
  
Warily rechecking the shells, Nora swallowed nervously when they continued to sit in place innocently. Keeping a safe distance from the desk, she headed around the edge of the small office, moving past the dilapidated radio and television set that she’d pushed off to the side, and opened up the antique refrigerator.  
  
This hunk of steel had been the most challenging repair out of the entire location, not counting the effort they’d taken to get the power source operational, and Nora absently wondered if it was worth the time they’d spent on it. Especially considering all that they’d loaded into the damn thing were beverages and half of a package of processed bologna.  
  
Quickly skimming the contents of the fridge, Nora’s lip curled into a frown. Most of the brands of soda on offer were equally unappealing to her at the moment, and she settled for two bottles of water, then rifled through the cabinet next to the fridge and extracted the last three ration bars contained within.  
  
The bottles were tucked into the deep pockets of her radiation suit, and she made sure to duck past her desk to grab the insulated gloves, slipping them on as she stepped out of the shielded door to the tiny little office that she’d confined herself too.  
  
Emerging into the cavernous space beyond was like a gust of fresh air. Well, the air was musty and poorly circulated, but at least it was cool, which was a touch refreshing. Part of her expected the air out here to be damp, or dank — the cavernous amount of space outside the modest office hinted at a, well, cavern, or a deep, forgotten tunnel — but in truth, they weren’t more than eight or nine feet beneath the ground, and if anything the air was a bit dry.  
  
A vaguely ticklish sensation at the back of her mind drew her eyes eagerly to the aged, dust-covered tables around her. Every little workspace had something small and unique, some slight measure of genius, or innovation, and her fingers ached to pick it all apart, to see what made it all _tick,_ but she abstained. She knew that if she gave in to that temptation, she’d be at this for hours, and she didn’t have that sort of time at the moment.  
  
Instead, Nora turned toward the far end of the workspace and shuddered internally. On one level, she knew, absolutely, that the hulking reactor in the far corner of the room wasn’t dangerous. Even if her partner had screwed up the shielding as severely as the original builder had, the suit she was wearing would protect her. Part of her suspected that she’d built something that could protect her from at least the radiation from one of those pocket nukes that people always whispered about Miss Militia being able to toss around if she wanted. Then again, it came bundled with the shockwave and EMP effects...  
  
She didn’t want to test that, but fear of radiation poisoning wasn’t really the reason that she avoided the reactor. No, it was how her powers got… twitchy if she got too close. For some reason, she wanted to pick the damn thing apart, play with the innards. When she got within eight feet of that monster, a sudden surge of almost suicidal innovation washed through her, and she kept having to force herself to back up.  
  
Thankfully though, that wasn’t the object of her focus at the moment. No, her focus was on the other end of the workspace. It’d been haphazard when she’d first arrived, clutter and aged materials piled up around the forge and metalworks beyond, but now it seemed like a jungle of metal and machine parts had sprung up among the distant workstations.  
  
She knew that her partner was located in the midst of that mess; the distant sound of a welding torch gave the other woman away. Weaving past the various tables, Nora let her fascination rule her for a moment as she carefully inspected the various bits of wrought metal on display.  
  
Motors, connectors, entire massive spools of wire were haphazardly piled, and amongst them massive bits of bracketing and metal framing, though the shapes eluded her. At one point, Nora was forced to duck low as she slid between two desks, a cage of twelve foot long curved metal braces arching between the two tables.  
  
When she finally began to notice the light, Nora pulled her goggles up and ducked around the last few tables. Sliding past the even more sections of rust-lined steel, she was finally able to see the other tinker hard at work. Perched precariously on the top of a step ladder, Sherrel Bailey was using one leather glove to brace a hunk of polished steel nearly twice the size of her lap against her thighs while the other fed a bundle of wrapped cable through it.  
  
Amusement flickered through her as she considered the serious, focused expression on the other woman’s freckled face. That amusement ratcheted up a degree when she noticed the blonde woman cursing under her breath as she carefully weaved the thick cabling through the complicated piece of metal.  
  
Nora moved closer, curiously inspecting the bit of metal for a few moments, trying to puzzle out why it looked so familiar to her. In the end, it was only once she’d moved enough that Sherrel wasn’t blocking the rest of her project that Nora figured out what she was looking at.  
  
The thick cabling that was feeding into the top of the substantial chunk of steel on Nora’s lap came from up above, emerging out the bottom of a matching piece of metal, and then through nearly a dozen more that got smaller and smaller as it went on. The entire thing must have weighed almost a tonne at this point, and it was being held aloft by a pair of heavy-duty shop cranes.  
  
“Is that a spine?” Nora asked, blinking when Sherrel’s entire form went rigid, and she snapped up to stare at her, confused, almost worried. She held herself still as the other tinker took a moment to figure out that she wasn’t a threat, finally relaxing after a few moments.  
  
“Yeah,” she commented absently, offering no further input. Nora wasn’t particularly offended; she was just as taciturn when she was in the middle of tinkering, and Sherrel was still clearly occupied with what she was working on.  
  
Waiting for the woman to finish with what she was working on, Nora indulged what was rapidly becoming a bit of an obsession for her: staring at the woman formerly known as Squealer in bemusement.  
  
Contrary to most of the rumors that she’d heard, the woman before her couldn’t be more than a couple years older than Nora herself, maybe twenty-two or twenty-three. A fact that was immediately apparent since the other woman had given up on the make-up and the fashion choices that could be generously referred to as ‘Demolition Derby Chic.’  
  
Like this? With sweat-soaked hair, and grimy oil on her face, and a loosely fitted cover-all, the girl looked human, normal.  
  
Well, not _quite_ normal. Even now, Nora could detect the shaking in the woman’s hands and arms as she struggled to get the last of the wires appropriately situated. When Sherrel moved to try and heft the massive bit of metal up, Nora moved over.  
  
“I’m fi-” Nora ignored the woman, bracing the thick gloves of her radiation suit under the bit of metal and pushed up with all her might, bracing it in place.  
  
“Oh, calm down, Bailey. Take the help. Now get a move on before I drop this on you.” The other woman’s brilliant blue eyes sharpened noticeably, but she did finally move in. Metal hooks were latched into place, the wires fully seated, and then the woman lifted up the welding torch.  
  
Nora bowed her head and shielded it with her shoulder, and there was a pair of short, sharp bursts of heat before Sherrel hopped off the bench and stepped back. Taking this as a sign that the patching was done, Nora gently lowered the vertebrae in her hand until it caught on the rest of the ‘spine’ and hung there patiently.  
  
Letting out a sigh of relief that the thing hadn’t fallen on her, Nora took a few steps back and moved over toward where Sherrel had ended up hunched over the top of the only clean worktable in the forest of machine parts.  
  
“So,” she commented, earning herself a sharp look from the blonde woman that she returned with a cocky smirk. “Spine?” Nora continued when Sherrel didn’t rise to her bait, and surprisingly, instead of a rude comment in response, or a sharp snub, the older woman gestured at the table.  
  
It was a rare thing to be invited to inspect another tinker’s work like this, at least for Nora anyway, and she slid around the table, curiously inspecting the design. It took her a few moments of concentration and a momentary flicker of discomfort from her temples, but the convoluted lines and annotations of the blue paper gradually resolved themselves into something tangible.  
  
“Jesus… What is this thing… twenty feet tall?” She glanced over at Sherrel, smirking at the woman’s surprised expression.  
  
“Long.” The gravelly words from the blonde startled her, and Nora glanced back down at the page, tilting her head as the woman continued, “Twenty feet long, not considering the tail.” It took a moment, but the image in her head shifted, and she could suddenly see what the woman was going for. “Did you manage to do them?”  
  
“Hrm?” Nora lifted her head, peering over at Sherrel’s measuring look, wondering what the woman was-  
  
“The rounds, the shells, did you manage?” Blinking in recognition, Nora nodded smoothly.  
  
“Yeah, of course.” Nora puffed up a touch, feeling the other woman’s eyes on her, her voice becoming flippant as she continued. “No idea what they’ll do beyond hurting whoever they’re shot at, but they seemed to work. Didn’t explode and destroy half of this banging secret lab, anyway.” Nora hummed, glancing up and around at the lights glowing fitfully above them and finally voiced the question that’d been bothering her.  
  
“This is a Marquis base, right? I’ve seen the placards around, and the chic is all him. How did you even know about it? It’s not like you broke through a wall by accident, you knew how to get in here, where it was…” Nora glanced back down from the roof and hesitated at the suddenly conflicted look on the other woman’s face.  
  
“I visited this place a few times when I was a teenager. Before I ended up living with my mother.” There was a certain… dark tone laced into Sherrel’s voice that left Nora fairly sure that following that particular line of conversation would be unwise, so instead, she turned back to the design before her.  
  
“So, what’re the shells for? Why’d you ask me to make them?” She tilted her head to the side, staring at the design in thought. Amusingly enough, instead of outright explaining, one of the other woman’s hands came down on the design and traced along it, and suddenly, fascination and excitement washed through Nora.  
  
When it was brought out to her, she saw it, the line of a barrel running along the spine and through those gaping jaws, past those ragged sharp teeth. A massive twenty-foot long cannon running through the entirety of its design…  
  
 _'Fascinating'_  
  
Mind you, the design was rudimentary, and she’d have to make a few modifications. Feeling her fingers itching for a pencil — a sensation that Nora'd never actually felt from her powers before — she reached out, grabbing a blank sheet of drafting paper and a pencil.  
  
Strangely enough, Sherrel didn’t protest or argue when Nora traced out part of the design, copying out part of the spine of the mech and the head, jaw, and shoulders before moving to make several adjustments to the cannon assembly. Her fingers moved faster than she could think, and before she realized it, she was making other notations along the spine, doing some precise colored lines, and tiny modest notations.  
  
“Hrm, that would improve the power efficiency a fair bit, if we can find the right materials.” The absent, shaky voice to her left startled Nora out of her focus. She blinked in confusion, staring at the convoluted lines and the annotations that she’d written down for a few moments before glancing over when Sherrel continued, “I guess you’re interested in helping, then?” Despite being framed as a question, the woman seemed sure that she’d figured out Nora’s choice.  
  
Just because she was right didn’t mean that Nora wouldn’t argue a bit.  
  
“Maybe? I’m still not sure why you’re building this thing. It’s huge, it’s overkill, and it’s liable to get us killed if we piss off the wrong people.” Nora glanced at Sherrel curiously, watching the way that the woman’s face closed in on itself. “I mean, not saying that any of that is a reason not to do it, after all. I’m all for making a huge mess, but most people are a bit less prone to danger seeking than I, and I’m wondering what that other mech-tinker did to piss you off.”  
  
“I- It’s personal.” The comment surprised her, and Nora slowly raised an eyebrow at Sherrel, waiting as the woman shivered slowly before offering a faint growl, and a tiny further admission. “They took something that should have been mine, and I want it back.”  
  
Nora paused at that before glancing down at the design.  
  
“I mean, one could say that it’s a bit far to go for revenge on someone taking something from you that they shouldn’t have but well…” Nora paused, chuckling absently as she tapped the design in front of her. “Well, I don’t have much room to talk there, do I?” Shrugging up her shoulders, Nora turned toward Sherrel.  
  
“So. Hypothetically speaking, if I was on board, what would you need me to locate.” She smirked when Sherrel’s eyes narrowed with confusion, and she pushed up, waving at the design. “I mean, I imagine that there’s only so much I can do on _this_ front, considering how my powers work, but I’m actually pretty fucking decent at being stealthy when the urge strikes me, and I could help source the stuff we don’t have kicking around here.”  
  
It took a moment before Sherrel caught on to what she was offering, but Nora could see the lights flickering on behind the shivering woman’s form.  
  
“So have you got a shopping list then?” When Sherrel started to scrabble around for paper, Noar waved her off, speaking quickly. “We can head back to the office, discuss it there.” The older woman looked like she might argue, and Nora pressed on coldly. “You’ve been out here for sixteen hours, Bailey. You look like you might collapse at any second. If you want to work together, you’re going to need to make sure that you don’t fucking collapse in the middle of the project.”  
  
There was a moment of bitter frustration that hung in the air between them after that comment before Sherrel let out a growl and turned to stalk off, picking her way through the mish-mash of metal all around them. When the older woman staggered and nearly fell, Nora slid in to catch her and pull her back onto her feet, ignoring the woman’s confused thanks. Once Sherrel was steady on her feet, Nora backed off, watching her move unsteadily toward the rear of the workshop.  
  
“You know, this withdrawal would go a lot quicker if you’d let me test my healing grenade on you.” Nora grinned when the woman glared over her shoulder at her, perking up as she continued. “It’s safe… probably. Just untested.” Somehow, the grin on Nora’s face grew a bit wider as the other woman finally relaxed and responded almost flippantly.  
  
“Remind me again why you’re still wearing that radiation suit? I’ve fixed the reactor; it’s perfectly shielded now. Perfectly safe… probably.” The woman’s glance over her shoulder earned her a chuckle from Nora as she stuffed her hands into the pockets of her suit.  
  
“Touche, Bailey. Touche.”  
  
  


▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ █ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▃ ▂

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[So! That was an interlude and a half. =] We get some hinting at the plot threads that we'll be seeing in the coming chapters, and some expansion on some of the AU elements in this fic. =]
> 
> Several things that I'm sure that you nerds are curious about that I shall try to address before the comments start pouring in. First of all, I did warn you that HHI was rather heavily AU. In this fic, Sherrel especially is rather AU, and she's been intended to be AU for a while. There's probably enough hints scattered throughout this particular interlude to glean out the changes to her backstory, though it might be a bit of a challenge to slot them together properly. Bakuda on the other hand only had some minor tweaking done to her backstory to make it a bit closer to the Weaverdice description of how you end up with a Dual Chaos Tinker methodology. (Also to deepen the character just enough to make her interesting to write, cause I'm selfish like that.)
> 
> Honestly, I doubt it'll have a huge impact on the story going forward, but I just sort of prefer that neither of these two are two-dimensional cardboard cutouts since they'll be important to the story, even if we won't be seeing their perspectives super often. Beyond that, I've not got much to say. =] There's gonna be another short interlude over in IA soonish, sometime early next week probably and then we'll be catching up with Taylor and Amy a little over a week from when we last saw them. So be prepared for that. =].]]


	8. Build - 1.1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[Ooof. Lotta... whole lotta stuff going on in Canada these days what with everything. But! I'm doing my best to keep this stuff coming as I get a chance. Though, until things calm back down, expect more delays in updates. Still, not a terribly short update at 7.2k words. As always, I'd love to share my deepest heartfelt thanks with our dedicated Beta, Noelemahc for listening to me ramble as I redid this chapter's outline like 3 times, and then completely ignored the tail end of it, and I'd once more like to thank Juff for giving it a once over to help out, and make it more legible for you fine folks.]]

_April 14th, 2011_   
_Brockton Bay Central Bank, Downtown_

  
  
Clenching her eyes shut, Amy desperately tried to ignore the way that the very air around her felt like a cloyingly warm and wet blanket draped around her shoulders, dragging her down. Instead of focusing on that cloying sensation, Amy focused on the hard plastic of her phone in her fingers, smirking when she felt it vibrate once against her palm. In her head, she silently counted.  
  
 _‘Eighteen, nineteen, twenty-’_  
  
Once more, the phone shook in her hand, once, twice, and then it fell still. Nearly there, at this rate-  
  
She hadn’t even realized that she’d fallen to the floor until she felt the hands clawing at her shirt, dragging her back to her feet. For a moment, she hung from unseen hands, blind and deaf to the world around her, struggling to make sense of what was happening until reality smashed back into her.  
  
Suddenly ears that had been straining for any hint of sound assaulted by a world too loud, too vivid. Her eyes watered as they went from pitch blackness to glaring halogen lights. Blinking back tears, Amy struggled to make sense of the words being growled imposingly at her as she dangled from the hands of the large man before her.  
  
“-e your phone.” The words grated painfully across her ears, cutting through the ringing, and Amy blearily blinked her eyes until the shadowy form looming over her came into focus. Leather jacket, leather gloves, biker helmet with a tacky visor molded into the shape of a skull.  
  
The vaguest hints of familiarity and recognition washed through her as she stared up at the reflective glass in the eyeholes of the ‘skull,’ watching faint wisps of shadow as they clung to the form, wafting off it almost like flames. The name escaped her, but she’d heard something about the man before-  
  
It took her a moment to cotton onto the fact that the man had said something about her phone, and she glanced down at the device still clenched in her hand. She’d lost count when she’d been grabbed, but it didn’t- And there it went, vibrating once, twice, thrice. A tiny smile spread over her face as she stared at the device, snapping her gaze up when a different voice cut across her.  
  
“It’s too late, Grue… She’s done whatever she was trying to do.” The words came from the right, and Amy allowed her head to loll in that direction, glancing warily over at the other cape present. Tall, or at least taller than her, with long straight blonde hair and bright green eyes. She flinched when the cape drifted closer, or at least she tried to; the heavy mitts on her shirt kept her from actually moving away.  
  
The blonde cape approached and reached for her phone. Amy offered no resistance when the girl in purple lifted her hand and stared at the phone for a moment before dropping the hand, holding the device with nothing more than a disgusted noise. The girl turned and took several steps away from Amy and the brute holding her up, glancing toward the safe.  
  
“Tattletale-” The man- Grue- spoke, and Amy’s face curled into a distasteful frown as the- Tattletale merely waved a hand dismissively at her, staring toward the vault.  
  
“It’s just a panic button, Grue. But we’ve already set off at least one silent alarm, she doesn’t matter.” Amy felt a roiling swirl of irritation and frustration in her gut at being dismissed like that, her free hand clenching as she briefly, momentarily considered reaching out and touching the ashen skin of Grue’s neck where she could see it peeking out beneath the swirling shadows washing off his helmet. She could show them both just how much she-  
  
“Tattle-” the man started, his voice laced with irritation and concern, and Amy’s feet settled back on the thick carpet of the bank floor as Grue loosened his grip marginally. Amy fought back the urge to strike immediately, to use her powers, or to give in to the surprisingly potent urge to slam the sharpest part of her knee into Grue’s crotch to make both of the bastards before her pay attention to her. But like Grue, Amy’s train of thought was derailed by the low, sudden hiss that filtered into Tattletale’s voice when she spoke.  
  
“Shut up, Grue,” the girl spoke, and Amy’s attention drifted over to the blonde, watching as she stared at the wide-open bank vault. Everyone was silent for nearly five seconds before Tattletale spoke, raising her voice. “Regent!” There was a lingering silence for a moment before the girl took a step closer, speaking again. “Regent? Bitch?” Another lingering silence and even Amy began to feel unease growing in her navel.  
  
Grue’s hulking figure rounded back on her, and Amy quickly raised her hands, opening her mouth to point out that she didn’t do this, that she couldn’t have. Even with her setting off her panic button like that, there was no way that her family had responded this quickly. In the end, though, neither of them was able to speak, being cut off by Tattletale.  
  
“Something’s wrong, Grue-” The girl had rounded back on them, and Amy watched, as if in slow motion as the girl’s expression suddenly slackened around that domino mask. “Grue, look ou-” The warning was too slow, there was no time for Amy or the villain to respond, and suddenly the shadows around them roiled to life, and a figure exploded from the darkness, massive inky black limbs slamming into them both and sending them flying.  
  
As she arced toward the teller booths, Amy was graced with a single uninterrupted view of the plague-doctor cape that she and Taylor had nearly run over the other night. As with the other night, the cape had eight massive shadowy limbs emerging from his back, legs that looked disturbingly like the shadows that even now kept the remainder of the lobby out of view.  
  
Six of the legs were holding the leather-clad cape aloft as the remaining two slammed into Grue’s flying form, viciously smashing his body into the carpeted floor and pinning him down as the massive spider-like cape descended on him. Amy watched in confusion and horror as the cape ripped a sharp blade free from his jacket and lunged forward.  
  
Sadly, despite the fascinating confrontation unfolding before her, gravity refused to give up its due, and Amy’s flight came to a sudden, painful stop before she could see what happened. The plate glass of the teller booth’s windows offered surprisingly little resistance to her arcing form, shattering under the impact of her body. However, the wooden desks behind them proved far more durable, and Amy bounced painfully across the surface of one before crashing into a second as she hit the floor.  
  
Head swimming as she lay atop a layer of shattered glass on the thickly carpeted floor between the desks, Amy desperately struggled against the darkness creeping in at the edge of her vision. Unfortunately, even the sudden sharp retort of a gun firing, paired with the brilliant flash of muzzle flare, wasn’t enough to stop her vision from dissolving into white noise.  
  
This time, when reality reasserted itself, it was with screams of confusion and pain, backlit by the overhead lights flickering ominously. Amy pushed herself up off her back, ignoring the bloom of pain along her left side.  
  
A sudden thunderous roar sent Amy scrabbling forward to shelter behind the remains of the teller booth, the movement sending shards of broken glass and splintered wood flying in all directions. When a second roar sounded, followed by a yelp and a heavy, meaty crunch, Amy moved forward, peeking up and over the edge of the booth at the lobby beyond.  
  
The sheer amount of destruction that’d been done to the lobby left Amy wondering how long she’d been out. The tables and the queue markers were gone, utterly destroyed, and scattered across the cracked tiles and ruined carpets.  
  
Of the nearly three dozen hostages that’d been present when the villains had arrived, most were just _gone_ , though Amy could see several sprawled out on the floor of the lobby in what she hoped was unconsciousness. The only figures up and moving in the space were capes who were in the midst of an especially destructive battle.  
  
Another yelp drew Amy’s attention toward the pinned down form of some sort of hulking misshapen beast, the massive creature being pinned in place by two of the Plague Doctor’s shadowy limbs, as the cape used two more of those limbs to send a second, similar creature flying.  
  
The creature skidded along the ground, flailing its hulking chitin clad limbs around until it managed to get purchase to right itself. It lowered itself and let out a long, piercing howl that rattled Amy down to her bones and charged toward the Plague Doctor again.  
  
It barely made it four feet before a swirl of roiling darkness smashed into it and sent its hulking body flying end over end through the air to come crashing to a stop near the huge windows at the front of the lobby. Amy’s eyes tracked the source of the blast, and she blinked at the sight of another cape.  
  
Short and squat, with a bit of a belly, Amy had difficulty imagining that this cape was more than fourteen or fifteen, clad in dark leather and a flowing inky black cloak. The cape adjusted the heavy silver rifle in his arms, making several minute adjustments that left him too distracted to notice the approach of the one Amy assumed was Regent.  
  
The boy’s costume had clearly been intended to be jaunty, ostentatious, but it's current tattered and blood-spattered state did detract from the image a bit. While the tinker was distracted, Regent slipped up behind him, raising a dinged and dented golden baton with both of his arms. Amy winced when, even from across the room, she was able to hear the meaty ‘thunk’ of the baton smashing into the back of the tinker’s head.  
  
The tinker crumpled face down on the ground, but Regent wasn’t able to relish in his victory for long, barely having a chance to turn back toward the rest of the battle before a swirl of roiling darkness smashed into him.  
  
For just a second, Amy thought that her eyes were deceiving her when she saw Regent somehow manage to both be sent flying through the air on a current of shadow, while also standing still and unmoving as it washed past him. But when the darkness cleared, Amy was left staring in confusion as a second Regent remained sprawled on the ground several feet from its counterpart.  
  
The two figures rounded on each other with snarls of rage, the one on the ground springing to his feet just in time to catch the other’s opening strike with the baton. The pair descended into a flurry of blows, and Amy drew her gaze away from the evenly matched capes, turning her attention to the source of the wave.  
  
She was beginning to sense a theme when she noticed a third cape standing by the open door of the vault clad in dark leather armor, and swirling voluminous purple robes. Unsettlingly, this cape’s attention was turned in Amy’s direction, or at least, that’s what Amy assumed. The cape’s face was covered by a pearlescent white mask with the vaguest of lines hinting at a feminine face.  
  
The cape didn’t move though, merely ‘staring’ Amy down. Thankfully for Amy, the standoff was broken when the cape was sent tumbling to her knees when Grue’s hulking mass emerged from the interior of the vault dragging Tattletale’s form, both of the villains sporting distinctly uncomfortable looking arrows from their backs.  
  
The shadowy cape was cursing up a storm as he dragged the insensate blonde away from the vault, and Amy felt her cheeks paling when a familiar figure finally emerged from the vault. Clad in heavy-looking leather armor, with a long silken cape trailing along the tile behind her, Shadow Stalker strode forward, holding her crossbow up.  
  
The impassive, judgemental visage of her mask quickly scanned the room, and Amy shrank back just a bit when she felt the violent vigilante’s attention smoothly shifting over her, and she watched as the cowled cape merely turned her focus back on Grue’s fleeing form, carefully lining up her weapon and-  
  
Thankfully, Amy wasn’t forced to watch Grue be executed from behind like a fleeing dog. Instead, the glass doors toward the front of the lobby exploded inwards in a flash of blue-white phosphorescent light. When the glare cleared, Amy watched a familiar golden ball as it bounced once, arcing across the ruined lobby, and then a second time, arcing so it would land amid the capes.  
  
Amy’s eyes widened as it bounced a third time, heading right toward the center of the lobby. Knowing what was about to come, Amy slammed her eyes shut and dropped rapidly to the floor, swallowing the moan of pain that wanted to emerge when she landed on her bruises. Curling up on her side, Amy ducked her head down and shielded it as the entire world on the other side of the teller stand vanished into a swirl of glowing light and heat.  
  
  


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“Look, Miss-” Amy was doing her best to be patient; after all, it was clear that the officer at least thought that he was looking out for _her_ best interests, judging by the obvious concern and apprehension in his tone. That being said, she was tired, her face, arm, and side hurt, and she didn’t want to stand around here any longer. Raising a hand, Amy gave the man a withering stare that silenced him mid-admonition, allowing her to cut in.  
  
“Look—” Amy hesitated, swallowing the vitriol laced words that wanted to emerge first. She took a slow, calming breath, giving the man a careful look. Despite the armor and the heavy gun that he was carrying, she realized that man couldn’t have been more than a few years older than her. Lazily rubbing at her face, Amy watched the man wince with sympathy, and she lowered her voice, moderating her tone as she’d seen Victoria do a few times in the past. “What’s your name?”  
  
“Um, Ezra Klein, er… ma’am.” The officer shifted nervously in place, and Amy let out a slow sigh, shaking her head before trying another tack.  
  
“Look, Ezra.” She nodded in his direction, restraining the smirk that wanted to bloom when the man perked up just a touch at that. “I’m tired. I’ve already done my stint in the medical tent, everyone’s being patched up and taken to the hospital, and I’ve been checked over. My family is currently busy trying to spin how they let both the Undersiders and the Shadow Stalkers escape, somehow, and I'm just... I'm far too tired to stand here. I’m fine, I just… I want to go home, have a shower, and forget that this day happened.” Most of that, at least, was true.  
  
“I, uh, understand, Miss Panacea, ma'am, but I’m not sure if I should let you through, maybe you should just wait for your-” Amy shook her head, gesturing over toward the media circus that continued apace as her family stood with the PRT, speaking with nearly a dozen reporters.  
  
“Does it look like they’ll be done any time soon, Ezra? I’ve already got a monster of a headache, and I just want to leave.” The man stared back at her hesitantly for several minutes before glancing over in the direction that she’d indicated. Amy held her breath, sighing in relief when the young officer merely stepped to the side and pulled part of the cordon aside to allow her to exit.  
  
“Alright, ma’am. Sorry about the trouble.” Amy swallowed yet another unbidden sarcastic comment that wanted to bubble forth, merely offering the officer a thankful smile. She then opted to move in the general direction of the nearest cross street before he could change his mind.  
  
As she walked toward where she thought the bus stop was, Amy resisted the urge to glance back over her shoulder to see if the officer was watching her, or more worryingly, speaking on his radio. Instead, she kept her head down as she vanished around the corner from the bank, seeking out the nearest bus stop.  
  
Strangely, Amy wasn’t sure if she was relieved or offended that no pursuit materialized in her wake. When the bus arrived fifteen minutes later, no officers had come looking for her, her family had apparently entirely missed her escape, and she was able to board with no trouble beyond a dirty look from the bus driver when she slid an entire five-dollar bill into the farebox.  
  
“We won’t be able to-” The man’s chiding comment halted mid-sentence when he caught sight of her face, and Amy was left wondering just how bad she looked if everyone that saw her reacted like this. Shrugging her shoulders, Amy discarded the concern, walking up the aisle of the empty bus, making her way toward the rear.  
  
The bus rattled to life as she was lowering herself into one of the uncomfortable seats, and she was left biting back a curse at the sudden heavy landing that this caused. She glanced toward the front of the bus, staring back at the wide eyes of the bus driver in the large mirror over his seat. Lacing her expression with a suitable measure of distaste, Amy felt a flicker of satisfaction when the man quickly averted his eyes and kept them firmly locked on the road.  
  
Carefully, Amy set her arm over her lap and tenderly traced the tips of her fingers over the reddish flesh of her wrist and lower arm, wincing minutely at the discomfort that the touch caused. There didn’t seem to be any broken bones, nothing out of place, so it was probably just a sprain. Absently, Amy admitted, at least to herself, that it was perhaps a poor choice to not have had it examined at the medical tent outside the bank.  
  
Shifting over closer to the window, Amy moved to rest her throbbing cheek against the cool glass, letting out a sigh as the pain dimmed a touch. Reassuringly, despite the discomfort, Amy didn’t seem to be suffering any ill effects from the head injury. No creeping darkness at the edge of her vision, no numbness, despite how appealing that idea might have been at the moment.  
  
The cold of the glass mingling with the warmth from the heater by her feet lulled Amy into a subtle, comfortable somnolescence that lingered with her until the bus rattled slowly to a stop at the bus terminal. With a minute groan, Amy dragged herself to her feet, ignoring the way her body bitterly protested the idea of moving, wincing at how stiff she felt suddenly.  
  
Doubting that she’d managed to dismount the bus with anything that even closely resembled grace or poise, Amy squeezed through the modest crowd waiting to board the bus as delicately as she could.  
  
Nodding politely when someone held the door for her, Amy vanished into the small terminal and wandered past the information kiosks. Heading toward the large displays on the wall, she checked to see the routes that left this terminal, letting her eyes drift over the various route names, looking for anything that struck a bell.  
  
 _“Birchmount, Brimley, Cliffside, Montrose Street, Moraby Bay, Coxwell, Dupont, Winslow School Special, Highland Cre-”_  
  
Amy froze, slowly taking a step back, staring up at the large placard for the Winslow School Special. She stared at the name on the board silently for several moments and frowned. This was a bad idea, she shouldn’t-  
  
She should just go home. Taylor made her position abundantly clear when she’d ghosted her. It had been over a week, and Amy was fine. She didn’t want to hunt down Taylor to find out why the girl had been ignoring her; she could _guess_.  
  
When she turned, her feet carried her toward the part of the station that would soon hold the bus to Winslow, and Amy silently cursed herself out as she waited. As the long minutes drifted past, Amy reminded herself several times that she should just go home, she could get that shower that she’d told Ezra that she wanted, and more than that, Victoria was probably waiting for her. And yet, despite her self admonishments, her feet remained planted to the cold concrete beneath her.  
  
Frowning sharply, Amy hated the flicker of distaste that washed through her chest at that idea. Victoria had been- She’d been great over the last week, spending time with her, trying her best to cheer her up. Especially considering how much of a brat Amy was being about refusing to even admit that anything was wrong.  
  
It wasn’t fair, Amy thought to herself as she waited for the bus to arrive. This is what she’d wanted, this attention, this care. She’d once wanted Victoria to notice her, to have her sister support her like she’d been supported. And Vicky had been doing that, had been pulling out the stops, and for some, stupid, galling reason it wasn’t enough… Or, perhaps, the problem was that it was all _too much_.  
  
For some stupid reason, Amy still craved Taylor’s quiet, attentive presence. She longed to storm into that shop, to blast angry music until she felt better, to rant about ‘unnamed mouth breather number sixteen’ as Taylor merely listened and chuckled in the right places. Victoria didn’t seem to get that, she was continually trying to fix things, and Amy didn’t want someone to try and ‘fix’ her issues. She just wanted someone to listen.  
  
There was only so much work that romcoms and shopping could do, and Amy was well and truly done with both at this point. Shifting back a step as a bus rumbled toward her, Amy waited as the few older passengers dismounted ahead of her. Clambering up into the warm interior of the bus, Amy handed her transfer over. Heading once more to the rear of the bus, Amy slumped into one of the wider seats, staring out the window until the bus pulled out of the depot.  
  
The bus ride was thankfully short and silent, though Amy’s anxiety only grew throughout it, her mind constantly wondering over what she’d say or do once she found Taylor. Her mind cheerfully kept reminding her of all the reasons that she’d imagined over the last week of _why_ Taylor might have blown her off.  
  
It was only when the bus rumbled its way away from the bus stop outside Winslow, leaving her in the cold, that Amy realized what a terrible idea this was. She didn’t know Taylor’s schedule, or where her locker was. She had no idea which part of the school Taylor exited, or how she might be able to hunt her down. And the idea of approaching one of the students milling around outside the school for assistance in finding Taylor was… uncomfortable at best.  
  
In the end, Amy wasn’t forced to attempt to speak with anyone. In fact, she’d barely even moved away from the bus stop toward the school when she’d caught sight of the familiar head of glossy black hair emerging from the doors at the head of a crowd of students.  
  
When the group drifted to a stop, Amy found herself studying the crowd that lingered around Taylor curiously, distantly wondering if any of the kids present was the enigmatic ‘Emma’ that the younger girl had mentioned so often. The entire group hesitated at the top of the stairs, hanging off of Taylor’s words as the tinker waved her arms around expansively, clearly in the midst of some sort of monologue or explanation.  
  
Amy’s gaze drifted slowly over Taylor, taking in the outfit that the girl was wearing. It was wholly different from the one that she’d been wearing the other night at the workshop, but by that token, it was clearly the same fare. Fashionable, but not expensive, complementary colors and a flattering cut. While it wasn’t uniquely feminine, it did suit Taylor’s tall, slender frame, leaving her looking so very different.  
  
Almost startlingly so. The makeup itself radically transformed the lines and shape of Taylor’s face, making her lips appear smaller, her eyes a bit less spaced out. The girl was what one would even call ‘cute.’ Belatedly, Amy realized that she should have guessed that the coveralls and battered clothing that she’d only ever seen Taylor wearing at two AM in a workshop might not have been her typical fare.  
  
Though it wasn’t just the clothes that startled Amy, it was the way that the girl was moving, how she was talking, and how the crowd around her paid her _‘attention.’_ The longer she watched, the more Amy found herself getting an odd sort of deja vu to Victoria’s days in organized sports. Sure, the hand gestures were different, and the students around Taylor were a bit less athletic, a bit more… refined, but there was some glimmer of that same… _popularity_ lingering around the younger girl.  
  
Feeling hairs rising along the back of her neck, Amy shook herself out of her musing and froze as she noticed a pair of stark blue eyes locked on her. One of the girls that had been listening to Taylor speak had seen her appraisal and was staring back at her.  
  
The oddly stern expression on the younger girl’s face was startling, the girl’s bottle-blonde hair framing her face, pageboy-style hair cut giving her a degree of severity that was a bit off-putting, especially with the large, sharp angular lines of the glasses. The girl shifted over, nudging Taylor, and Amy shifted nervously as she felt a sudden wave of apprehension in her gut.  
Fighting off the urge to hide behind the light pole that she was standing near, Amy moved to rest her shoulder against the concrete pillar, taking nearly a six seconds to force her body into what she hoped was a ‘casual’ lean, staring up at the doors as Taylor turned to stare in her direction.  
  
Strangely, the first thing that Amy noticed was the glasses resting on Taylor’s nose. They were different from the large, wide lenses that Amy had seen her wear so often, this pair more elegant, and framing her wide face differently. This, along with the make-up properly applied to Taylor’s face, altered the entire landscape of Taylor’s features.  
  
Her cheeks looked… different, less stark, less… noticeable. It was almost as if she was more muted, but by that same token, she was also rather… feminine, perhaps even more attractive. Amy swallowed as Taylor stared at her, blinking when the girl’s expression shifted, slackened sharply, and Amy watched the girl’s mask as it smoothly slipped away for the briefest of moments.  
  
The raw, undiluted concern and worry present on the face made Amy’s chest flutter in a way that she chose not to pay too much attention to, merely lingering in her place by the post as Taylor waved off the questions of her friends, muttering something absently and then hurrying down the stairs in her direction.  
  
When Taylor hit the street and hustled toward her, Amy’s mind suddenly blanked, every hurt question or angry accusation that had ghosted through her mind over the last week suddenly evaporating under the force of that worried examination.  
  
“Amy!” Taylor’s voice was breathless as she skidded to a halt before her. “What the hell-” The girl cut herself off, stepping closer, and Amy flinched back instinctively as Taylor’s hand suddenly shot toward her face, flushing when the girl’s eyes widened with an even graver concern. “Are you alright?”  
  
“...” Amy opened her mouth to respond, but words wouldn’t form, instead Amy’s mind locked on the idea that Taylor was the first person to have asked her that, despite everything that had happened today. Amy closed her mouth, swallowing as Taylor stepped closer. This time she didn’t flinch back when the younger girl gently grasped her chin and turned her head to the side.  
  
“Jesus, Amy.” Taylor’s voice was low, laced with apparent concern, and Amy found herself absently wondering just what sort of poor shape her face was in, if this was the reaction that she got when anyone paid her anything more than a cursory glance. “You should be in the hospital, what the hell happened? Were you attacked?”  
  
“Er, no, not quite anything like that. Wrong place at the wrong time, just sorta got caught up in the crossfire.” The words spilled forth with a hesitancy that Amy abhorred, though it was the look of confusion and disbelief on Taylor’s face that prompted her to continue hastily. “Honest. I was just at the bank, dealing with some family investments, and this big black cloud washed in over us…”  
  
  


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Silence lingered between them when Amy finally fell silent, and Taylor sat there on the wrought iron bench they’d found around the corner from the school, staring at Amy in mild disbelief. The tale had been… fantastical at first blush, an up-close and personal relating of a true blue, cape fight, but then- Then Taylor had picked up on the subtle undercurrents from Amy. The way the girl’s hands shook just a bit in the wake of being attacked like that, or the tiny persistent coldness that lingered in her fr- in the older girl’s eyes as she’d explained making her escape while her family had been too distracted to notice.  
  
“Amy- What the fuck were they thinking? Like I said, you should be at a hospital, you look like you did six rounds with-” The words drifted out before Taylor even realized that she was speaking. She did cut herself off before she finished the sentence, but the way that Amy’s attention snapped around toward her indicated that the older girl had heard enough. “Er, that is to say, uh… Not that you don’t look perfectly acceptable, but I can’t imag-”  
  
The older girl stared at her as she babbled out a string of nervous assurances, a heavy lingering tension hanging between them until Amy finally reacted, letting out a single, sharp snort of laughter.  
  
The momentary surprise that flickered over Amy’s face in the wake of the noise was what pushed Taylor over the edge, and she found herself chuckling, which merely set Amy off as well. Before long, the two of them were laughing, though Taylor couldn’t, for the life of her, figure out what had set them off.  
  
Sadly, the merriment didn’t last long. Amy’s broad grin almost instantly dimmed, and she shifted back a bit. Frowning, Taylor leaned closer, taking a better look at the ugly red color of Amy’s cheek, and the way that the corner of her lip was cracked and discolored.  
  
Shaking her head, Taylor turned her attention to her bag, pulling it over to rest on her lap and flipping it open smoothly. Luckily, for Amy anyway, Taylor’s skills with a soldering iron hadn’t precisely been exacting or perfect at first, and she’d gotten so used to burning, cutting, or stabbing herself over the early weeks of Noble’s creation that she’d taken to preparing herself, just in case.  
  
It didn’t take more than a moment or two for Amy to notice her scrounging, but the older girl didn’t comment, and Taylor didn’t offer an explanation right away, merely fishing around in her bag until she located her first aid kit. Pulling out the compact white metal box, Taylor smoothly flipped it open and picked through the contents.  
  
“Here,” Taylor spoke quickly, tugging out the bottle of aspirin she’d sequestered in the box, dropping out a couple white pills and offering them over with a bottle of water that she’d kept in her bag.  
  
The way that Amy hesitated, staring at her warily, was unsettling to Taylor. Still, the pain must have won out over whatever suspicion had gripped Amy because the girl eventually accepted the pills and the water.  
  
Once Amy had swallowed the pills, and finished off the water in the bottle, Taylor turned her attention back to her medical kit, fishing out the cold pack. She smacked the plastic package against her knee twice before giving it a vigorous shake. Feeling the bag rapidly starting to cool, she turned toward Amy and shifted closer.  
  
The sudden, concerned flicker in Amy’s eyes and the way her form subtly shifted away was a surprise, but Taylor didn’t let her own concern show on her face. She merely lifted the package and moved it closer as she spoke, keeping her voice as soothing as she could.  
  
“Don’t be such a baby, this shouldn’t hurt too much, and it’ll keep the swelling down.” Despite what she said, Taylor waited a moment, watching the older girl’s eyes flicker between her and the silvery bag in her hand, before continuing. As she’d been expecting, after a momentary wince of discomfort, Amy let out the expected sigh of relief, her hand coming up to grip the silver package tighter to her face.  
  
Taylor also kept herself from reacting at the way that Amy’s entire form suddenly froze when the sudden movement caused Amy’s fingers to capture her own. She merely carefully slipped her hand free and turned her attention to her lap once more, carefully replacing everything else she’d removed from the first aid kit.  
  
A heavy tense silence lingered between them as Taylor worked, and part of her imagined that she could actually hear the heavy, rusted gears grinding in the other girl’s head as she wrestled with her thoughts. She didn’t speak though, waiting patiently until Amy let out a long, grumpy sigh before speaking with a surprising amount of gruffness laced through her tone.  
  
“...Er, thanks for uhm….all of this.” Taylor turned back, peering at the other girl as she spoke, blinking when Amy didn’t look back, keeping her attention locked on the deserted street before them as she continued in a rush. “I guess that I probably shouldn’t have just shown up like this, but I-” It was… fascinating, watching the way that Amy’s lips parted to continue talking, only for… nothing to come out.  
  
Instead, Amy’s brow furrowed deeply, and her eyes seemed to unfocus just a tiny bit, and Taylor watched the older girl getting lost in her thoughts.  
  
“Amy,” Taylor tried after a few moments, startling the healer out of her thoughts. When Amy’s gaze finally drifted in her direction, there was a mixture of discomfort and something almost bitter or resentful. Shifting back just a touch under the weight of that stare, Taylor continued a bit more uncertainly than she’d initially intended. “W-Why’d you come here?”  
  
The transformation was almost instant, the older girl’s expression curling into a sudden burst of sharp, smoky anger that shocked Taylor. The girl shifted closer, eyes narrowing as she raised up as tall as she could go. A flicker of crimson washed over Amy’s face, and Taylor could almost imagine some manner of furnace being stoked deep in the other girl’s core as she opened her mouth to say something, free hand coming up clenched into a fist.  
  
The older girl’s sudden, brusque movements halted instantly when Taylor suddenly jerked back and away, panic and concern washing through her. The panic faded as that hand lowered to rest on the healer's lap, but the anxiety remained steady as she stared at Amy’s furrowed brow, watching as the older girl slumped back into her seat. Almost immediately, a tiny flicker of guilt bubbled through her as she studied Amy. In truth, she hadn’t consciously made the choice to move, and despite the instinctive reaction, Taylor doubted that Amy would have actually struck her.  
  
“I-” Amy started, voice sounding oddly mellow despite the anger that she’d shown. “I just- er, I don’t know. I just… I saw the school on a bus schedule, and I… I couldn’t resist the urge to come by. See if you were around, figure out what uh… _happened_.” The strange distance in Amy’s voice pulled at Taylor, and she frowned, shifting forward a touch, staring at the older girl.  
  
“...What happened?” she asked nervously, one of her hands moving to nervously fidget with her phone where she could feel it through the fabric of her jacket. There was a moment of lingering silence as Amy peered reluctantly at her out of the corner of her eye before continuing slowly, as if she’d rather be doing anything else.  
  
“Well, uh. I just… Things went so well, you know. And then, _uh_. Well. I mean, the last week, and stuff. And.. you know…” Amy’s resolve almost instantly fled, and Taylor watched on with startled confusion as the girl turned to stare down at her lap, dissolving into muted muttering. “I mean, I guess I get it. I bet that once she calmed down, that Emma changed her mind, right? And that’s cool, but I didn’t think that we’d just never talk anymore because of all of that, and it’s kind of uncool that you just stopped-”  
  
“Wait,” Taylor said quickly, sharply, lifting a hand which, surprisingly, instantly cut off Amy’s sudden, out of character, babblefest. The older girl glanced at her, startled as Taylor pushed off the confusion she felt, and spoke quickly, “What, exactly, are you talking about?”  
  
“I-uh. You… stopped…” The other girl trailed off, shrinking just a bit under her stare as she continued slowly. “You stopped texting me? Responding to me… It’s been, like a week... “ The words got softer and softer as Amy said them, and Taylor imagined that her confusion was pretty blatant at this point. “... _didn’t_ _you_?”  
  
Rather than responding to Amy’s question, Taylor fished out her phone, smoothly offering it over after unlocking it and navigating to her conversation history with Amy. She didn’t even need to glance at the messages to know that she’d sent nearly a dozen over the last week and a half, though she’d assumed that Amy’s parents were merely unusually strict in regards to grounding.  
  
“...That bitch.” Amy’s voice was low, dangerous as she glared down at the phone, thumb swiping upwards for a moment before shoving the phone back at Taylor as she lurched to her feet, storming up the street with a low growl of fury. “That manipulative, lying, scheming fucking bitch.”  
  
“Amy!” Taylor lurched to her feet, chasing after Amy as the girl angrily stamped toward the bus stop.  
  
  


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“...exactly what’re we doing here?” Amy’s voice was laced with sullen fury and confusion as she glanced around at the nearly abandoned coffee shop. Taylor watched with bemusement as Amy’s severe glare connected with the purple-haired, heavily pierced teenaged barista that was lounging disinterestedly against the nearby counter.  
  
A fascinating staring contest rather suddenly developed between the two girls, and Taylor’s attention swept between the pair as the contact lingered until the purple-haired girl slowly raised a single eyebrow and made a kissing gesture in their direction that instantly caused Amy to break off eye contact with an irritated huff.  
  
When the older girl’s attention snapped back around to settle back on her, eyes narrowing in the process, Taylor wisely kept her comments on what just happened to herself. Instead, she moved on to explain why she’d insisted that they had to come _here_ instead of allowing Amy to go home to get in a screaming match with her mother.  
  
“Right, uh. Well, I mean… We don’t really know what happened, right? For all we know, the tweak I did to make our story more believable screwed up your ability to shoot out texts.” Amy’s response to this was a look so heavily laden with exasperation that Taylor was surprised that it didn’t physically shift her back in her seat under the weight of it. “Er, well, it’s better to be safe than sorry. I figured that I could get someone to check over your phone, see what’s up. You, uh, remember Chop, right?”  
  
Amy stared at her in silence for several moments, confusion plain on her features until something seemed to connect behind the other girl’s eyes, and she responded slowly, skeptically.  
  
“You mean that sketchy tinker that you’re always talking with on the laptop?” The girl’s voice was low, worried, and she’d glance around. “What does that have to do with anyth-” Amy’s voice trailed off, her entire expression closing down, and Taylor shrank back under the sudden, dark, suspicious look directed her way. “Taylor, did you invite some random tinker you met on the Internet to come and meet us at a coffee shop?”  
  
“...Maybe,” Taylor spoke slowly, flushing when Amy’s attention snapped back onto her with a mixture of suspicion and dread.  
  
“Taylor, you don’t know anything about this guy, what if he’s like forty, what if he’s a villain, do you have any idea how dangero-” Panic and anger washed over Amy’s face. Taylor flushed, quickly shifting forward and waving her hands to silence Amy’s rapidly raising voice, cutting in.  
  
“Amy!” She flicked her eyes toward the still disinterested-looking barista, earning herself a blatant eye-roll in response from Amy. Still, she did continue in a softer voice before the older girl could resume her lecture. “And, he’s not a stranger from the Internet… Anymore.” Skepticism bloomed on Amy’s face, and Taylor pressed on before the older girl could get a word in. “I’ve uh, already… met… him.”  
  
Taylor slowly trailed off as what she’d assumed was Amy’s furious face shifted into something even more dangerous, actually moving to push her chair back as the older girl leaned forward. Thankfully, she was saved from whatever verbal tongue lashing Amy might have been cooking up when a large red backpack crashed onto the table between them, startling them both out of their conversation.  
  
Both of them glanced up, and Taylor felt a flicker of relief when she caught sight of Chop’s sandy-brown hair and sharp blue eyes. Contrary to Amy’s assumption, the tinker wasn’t an older man, actually being closer to Taylor’s age. Or, at least, that’s what Taylor assumed. They hadn’t actually gotten to the point of actually exchanging anything in the way of personal information, even their names.  
  
Chop grinned at her, and Taylor returned it with a quick smile, though when the boy’s head drifted across the table, and his expression instantly fell, Taylor turned to see Amy’s eyes locked on her, laced with an odd sort of intense irritation. Flushing, she quickly waved her hands, explaining.  
  
“Chop knows me from the Toybox forums, Amy, where my username on there is _Noble00. S_ o when you publicly gave out Noble’s name… Well, he sort of cottoned on to the fact that we might be connected, and uh... Well, we tinkers are a boisterous lot and he... insisted.” Taylor trailed off, waving her hand, sighing under her breath when Amy’s expression softened after a moment. The relief grew even more palpable when the other girl’s attention finally shifted away from her, toward Chop.  
  
“Chop,” Taylor started, making a vague, somewhat polite gesture between the pair, speaking quickly. “This is the friend that I mentioned, with the issue with her phone. Amy, this is-” Taylor hesitated when Amy’s eyes narrowed. Astonishingly, before she could continue, the older girl leaned forward, speaking cooly.  
  
“Hello, Chop, was it?” Taylor’s attention shifted over to Chop, watching the boy’s shoulders as they stiffened, and he took a single step back. The slow, dangerous smile on Amy’s face was surprising, though no more so than the words that followed when she leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Or, perhaps, you’d prefer Kid Win?”  
  
  


▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ █ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▃ ▂ ****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[DUN, DUN, DUN. Thus begins the second arc of Hebert Heavy Industries, The 1.x series.
> 
> =] Seriously though, nothing too terribly groundbreaking here. We find out who ChopShop is finally, get some more information there, and see what's been going on with our girls since their inaugural trip out. We also get to see just how different this universe is from the main, canon, one. We'll get more details on what exactly's going on with Taylor when we see our next update.
> 
> I might double down on this chapter, get the resolution of this cliffhanger out, or I might do the IA chapter, at the moment I'm kind of too tired to pick one way or the other, but hopefully you guys will see an update like, sometime in the next two weeks from my terrible face.
> 
> Other than that, as always I eagerly await your responses to this, and I'll see you guys in the comment section.]]


End file.
